To Love and to be Loved
by pluviophile
Summary: "I think.." Jace began, trailing his fingers down Clary's spine. "You've played Doctor too long." His lips found their way to her neck, and it was like she was being set on fire. "T-Three years," Clary managed to stutter out, her voice lost. His hands were everywhere now, caressing her. "Exactly." It was silent. "And.. I believe it's my turn now." Jace reached for her blouse..
1. Doctor Fray and the Reckless

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to Padamoose, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_Author's Note: Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'm not a fabulous writer. First off, haha. But I want to let you know that I've tried really hard to make this the best piece of writing I could muster. So if you read all the way to the bottom, if you would leave a review I would love you forever and ever c:_

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments in any form or shape or anything like that._

_Summary: Top doctor Clary Fray is devoted to her work, careful and barely having any time for herself. Jace Herondale is reckless and self absorbed, doing whatever he wants. When Clary saves the life of Jace, she finds love where she least expects it... *summary in progress, cover in progress, please R & R c: *_

**XOXOXOXO**

The monotonous sound of the machines continued through each floor, no matter how high the elevator took you. The smell of chemicals and disinfectants swarmed the air like a hive of bees, although the doctors and patients alike had gotten used to the reek, no longer caring that they came home smelling like a recently cleaned bathroom. They and their families had gotten used to the late shifts and the expectancies that they'd be working overtime, tending to another patient or what not; it was expected when you had a high demanding job such as a doctor or nurse.

Indistinct whispering came from the desks where the nurses tolerantly directed visitors or talked on the phone for what seemed like hours on end, their patient tones never wearing. Doctors and nurses walked by again and again, clipboards tucked neatly under one arm and carried a bottle of water in their other. Every one of them wore the same expression on their face with their foreheads in a crinkle, eyebrows brought together and mouths curled into a slight scowl of permanent concentration.

Most of the workers in the hospital were on the job for over twelve hours, especially those who worked in the ER or ICU. They might have been mentally drained and physically drained, due to the amount of caffeine they drank on their breaks. But their eyes were never tired. Filled with light and energy, they pushed forward, always remembering their soul purpose, why they wanted the job as a doctor in the first place: to help people. And with that in mind, they pushed through the barrier of being exhausted and continued on, acting like they were okay and they were fine.

It was rather late in the day, maybe ten o clock at night, but the hospital was still alive. A young woman made her way down one of the long, winding hallways, her mocha in one hand and a clipboard tucked safely in the other arm. Her white tennis shoes made no sound as she continued walking, the hallway seeming to grow longer and longer and she continued to walk, longing to just sit down and rest her eyes. Her mass of red, fiery curls threaten to undo from her ponytail which she had messily put in, in an attempt to get her hair out of her eyes. of course, nothing seemed to tame her hair, so she gave up, taking another sip of her drink, the only thing that seemed to be keeping her on her feet at the moment. Her clipped fingernails dug into her Styrofoam cup, and her other arm squeezed the clipboard in an attempt to keep everything that was forced on it to stay intact without spiraling to the ground in a papery mess that Clary knew she would have to clean. Frankly, she didn't have the energy to.

Sighing, Clary continued her trek to her office. She had more paperwork to verify and needed to get caught up on paying her rent, which had been carelessly shoved aside due to her busy, busy week. People living in New York were always getting injured or shoved to the hospital in an ambulance, so Clary was always on her feet, almost never having the time to sit down and think for herself. Frankly, she couldn't think of the last time she went to the theaters or went back to her apartment to spend time with her roommate and best friend, Simon.

Thinking of Simon made her heart ache. She closed her eyes for a moment, drinking in the reminder of her roommate. The way his unruly, brown curls were never brushed or how he always pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose more than necessary. Thinking about it, he was probably home now, playing Halo or probably asleep on the couch. Clary briefly wondered if Simon dreamt about his games; it was more than likely, since he refused to talk about anything other than his wonderful games. Shaking her head with a wistful sigh, Clary took a deep breath when her pager went off again, and the trill of her cell phone shattered the silence. She fumbled for her phone, balancing her clipboard on her hip while trying not to spill her caffeine. Pulling out her phone, Clary put it up to her ear, praying that her coat wouldn't be devoured by hot, brown liquid, the only thing that was keeping her from falling to pieces at the moment.

"Dr. Fray," Clary said, gently setting her mocha and clipboard down once she reached her office. It was small, with nothing in it except for a desk and a dusty bookshelf and a plaque on the desk that read: DR CLARY FRAY. A picture of her and Simon sat next to her laptop, which hummed to life once Clary opened it. The bright screen made her green eyes burn due to the lack of light in her office, and she turned away from her computer, picking at the hem of her coat instead. She silently hoped they said she could take a day off now, but it was unlikely at the moment.

"Sorry to bother you Doc, but we just received another call. Meet me down at the ER immediately." Clary sipped the rest of her mocha, twirling the green straw rapidly before nodding carefully, setting it down on her desk. Her heart sank; as much as she loved her job, things were getting out of hand with the schedule. They had been short on doctors, and of course, Clary had volunteered to work longer hours in order to make up for the loss. Simon constantly told her she didn't have to play hero all the time.

"Mmkay, thanks Seb. I'll see you in a few." She began to dash outside back down to the first floor where the ER was located after reluctantly throwing her mocha away. She probably wouldn't be drinking it anytime soon…

**XOXOXOXO**

_Half an hour ago…_

The roar of New York City traffic was astounding for the hour. It was nearing ten o clock, and the city was lit up with cars and taxis, jammed up in traffic. The cold air nipped at Jace's fingers, but he ignored it, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he weaved in and out of traffic on his motorcycle. The wind whipped through his gold hair, and he let out a whoop, cutting off the other cars, and as they screamed profanities at him, Jace just continued to ride up and down the streets of New York, not caring. He heard his phone buzz, and he blindly reached into his pocket before pulling out his phone and pressing it to his ear.

"Jace!" he said loudly, ignoring some truck driver's colorful language spewing from behind him. His breath swirled in front of him, but he didn't shiver. Jace felt more alive than ever, his adrenaline rush keeping him warm.

"Hey, where the hell are you?" Alec's panicked voice came from the other line. Jace chuckled, rolling his eyes at his friend. Alec, Jace's best friend, had absolutely no sense of humor and was probably at home, worrying about nothing that would even matter later on.

"Don't you know the definition of 'fun', Alec? Listen to this!" Jace held up his phone and whooped again, the beauty of New York rushing into the telephone so Alec heard all of it. When Jace put the phone back to his ear, he was grinning.

"Cool, huh?" he chuckled. Alec was not amused.

"No, not cool," he said. Jace could picture his friend with a scowl on his face as he anxiously peered out the window, expecting to see Jace on his motorcycle.

"Well, bye then." Jace hung up the phone, despite Alec's protests, and shoved it into his pocket, swerving wildly across the road as he tried to do so. His heart thumping in his chest, Jace chuckled as more drivers honked at him, cursing him. He looked up, staring at the blanket of stars that hovered over him. Jace basked in it for a while, sighing before thinking to himself. My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations. He had read it in a book once, and it was quote that Jace always kept to his heart.

Wild honks interrupted Jace's thoughts, and his eyes widened realizing what had just occurred. A car was coming right at him, and Jace's eyes widened in fear, despite the bright headlights that came at him, head on. He had no choice. Die or don't die. The choice was simple. Cursing to himself, Jace clumsily swerved to the right to avoid a crash but instead, he rammed into a parked car, his bike spiraling out of control.

"Shit," he swore to himself as the alarm went off. He felt himself fly off the bike and into air, suspending in midair for a brief moment before he hit the cement with an oof, wincing at the pain that spiked everywhere in his body. Jace squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed a groan, a hand holding his side where it hurt the most. His other hand went to his nose, and when he pulled away, his skin was stained crimson. The only thing that ran through his mind was the rhythmic beeping of the car alarm as he faded into darkness.

**XOXOXOXO**

"Yeah Seb, what's our situation?" Clary asked, maneuvering her way towards her intern. Unlike the rest of the quit floors, the ER was bustling with energy and life as people were wheeled in and out of the OR or into ICU. The taller man fumbled with his clipboard, making Clary roll her eyes. she was in no moods for fooling around or not getting any work done. The last thing she needed was her clumsy intern to already mess up with the situation. "Hurry Seb," she snapped at him, causing her partner to jump in surprise.

"S-Sorry, Doctor," he said, not meeting her eyes. Clary sighed, taking a deep breath. The smell of chemicals and sick people flooded her senses, and she desperately tried to clear her mind. All she wanted to do was go home and have a little time to herself.

Guilt flooded through her when she realized it was her fault for making Sebastian jumpy; he didn't exactly do anything that would make her mad. "I'm sorry Sebastian," she said plainly, green eyes jumping up to meet his. "It's been a rough week, and I'm _so_ tired." Clary massaged her temples with one hand, trying to clear her head. A patient needed her, and a whole bunch of people depended on her at the moment. Clary could not afford to fail them at the moment. She wouldn't let her weakness get in the way of her work.

"It's alright," he said simply, looking down at her. Smiling gratefully at him, Clary nearly jumped when she heard Sebastian whisper in her ear, "After this, I'll ask them to send you home." She smiled, eyes shining.

"Thanks Seb."

"Doctor, we have a patient here." All evidence of previous affection was wiped clear off Clary's face as she resumed her role of doctor rather than friend. Bursting into the operating room as nurses put gloves on her hands and scrubbed her down, Clary eyed the patient, a young man around twenty with beautiful blonde hair. At first, she mistook him for an angel. Stifling a gasp, Clary shook her head. No distractions…

"Update me."

"John Doe. Early twenties. Motorcycle accident. Found him up on 115th Street."

"Gotcha." Clary leaned in closer to him, inspecting every inch of him. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, she noticed a dark, purplish bruise forming on his stomach which she also happened to notice was very ripped. Must keep in shape… She peered closely at his head which had a head full of dark, gold locks. Clary tried to ignore the sudden urge to run her fingers through his silky hair. Her hand twitched.

"Probably a concussion," she said, her hands lingering near his hair which she couldn't help but run her hands 'accidentally' through while she finished her inspection. She couldn't help it. Looking up at the others that studied her, she gestured with her hands. "Bandage him up then take him to a room, he'll be alright." Her tone was reassuring as she spoke, and the others nodded, not questioning Clary's authority. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes. A whisper filled her mind as Seb passed by.

"Take it off, you deserve it." And right she did.


	2. Your face is ugly

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to Padamoose, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_For further clarification: Clary is twenty five (and a complete genius) and Jace is twenty seven. Also, the term 'John Doe' is like 'Jane Doe', identifiable. People like the police use this term when they have someone who is unconscious or (hopefully not) dead without ID._

_Author's Note: Wow, the amount of feedback I received was just amazing. Haha, I know it may not seem like a lot of reviews to some of you, but I'm excited (: And OVER 800 views? What?! I love you guys! Muah._

* * *

The rhythmic beeping of the machine made Jace stir. His head was pounding, and his eyelids were heavy. As much as he wanted to wake up, he honestly didn't think he had the energy to do so at the moment. His whole body ached, and any movement that he attempted made him flinch as a dull pain spread from his fingertips and exploded at his chest and head. Wincing, Jace gave up moving or trying to open his eyes. He listened instead. Apparently if one of your senses wasn't working right, the others were heightened. Jace wasn't superstitious and didn't believe in crap like that, but what could he choose to believe at the moment? He barely remembered what happened. The only thing he could focus on was how heavy his eyelids were, like someone had superglued them shut, even though that was probably unlikely.

The sound of footsteps faded as someone walked away from where he was, and he heard fierce murmurs come from nearby, as if they were afraid of waking someone. The loudest sound was the beeping that came from right next to him. It was also the most annoying. The pain took over him as he tried too hard to concentrate, trying to figure out what the heck happened. Jace squeezed his eyes shut.

**XOXOXOXO**

Clary was sprawled over her couch, drinking in the smell of stale potato chips and axe, obvious residue left by the one and only Simon who spent a good majority of the day on the couch. She was home at last. Her whole body ached, and her muscles were tight. She felt uneasy which made her unable to truly unwind when she should've been able to easily. But she didn't feel relaxed at all; her pager kept going off all night and even sometimes during the early morning. Clary had wanted to grab it and see if she needed to be called in, but Simon had chucked it against the wall (which only seemed to make the beeping increase), before he finally pulled the batteries out and triumphantly kept it in his room, out of Clary's reach.

Out of defiance, she stayed up late, reading a book much to Simon's protests. It went along like this often, a daily routine that they had both learned to deal with. Simon said Clary was much too devoted to her work so he had insisted on taking her to a club at three in the morning, getting her drunk and therefore, that's why she was sprawled on the couch. That definitely explained her current state. She looked up groggily to see Simon on the couch next to her, a conquering smile plastered onto his face. Clary mustered a glare at him, but he just laughed.

"You're welcome," Simon said.

"No, not 'you're welcome'. Was that your plan, Si? The only thing you thought of to make me relax? Take me to a club, get me stoned then carry me home when I'm drunk?" Clary asked him incredulously, running a hand through her tangly curls.

"Yes, actually," Simon replied, his grin growing significantly. Clary threw a pillow at him, but Simon just dodged it, laughing. How she missed his laughter… "It worked, Clary."

She didn't doubt him. Last night was vague, but she remembered laughing and dancing without caring about anyone else at the moment except herself. That was the first time in awhile where she self-indulged in something. She remembered the unfamiliarity of the booming music as it made her ears go fuzzy and heart jump out of her chest. It felt like she was stepping into foreign territory as she hesitantly began bobbing her head to the music before she was full-out drunk as she danced with complete strangers (that she remembered) and even lost a couple bucks in bets she didn't care to commit to memory.

"I bet it did, Si," she mumbled, burying her head into the sofa once more before she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Clary didn't even bother to flinch away; after awhile the touch calmed her down. Her breathing slowed to an even pace, and Simon sighed in relief.

"Just sleep, Clary," he said to her. "You deserve a day off." That's exactly what Sebastian had told her. He even claimed it seemed like Clary was married to her work, but that wasn't it. She was 'devoted', as she told herself over and over again. The real reason why Clary was so obsessed with her work remained a mystery to her, but then again, she was so caught up in it that she didn't have time to think about her motives. Her eyes were heavy, and she felt herself spiraling into the darkness, sleep just calling to her— wanting to engulf her.

The harsh trill of her cell phone startled Clary, making the girl sit up, surprised. Her phone was sitting innocently on the counter, waiting to be answered. Simon looked at Clary; Clary looked at Simon. They both raced for it, but Simon had longer legs and was stronger, pushing Clary back onto the couch gently, ignoring her squeak of protest. Simon let out some rather colorful language as he went over to grab Clary's cell phone. He pressed the 'reject' button and stared at his friend, who let out a horrified squeak. She jumped up, despite her headache and ran over to Simon, clawing at him for her cell phone.

"It might be important!" she protested, jumping up to try and grab it. Clary wasn't very tall, and seeing that Simon was holding her cell phone high over his head, she couldn't even reach it.

"Nuh-huh," he said, "You're going to _rest _today." Clary shook her head back and forth wildly. It was probably Seb, paging her in and telling her they needed her back at the hospital ASAP. Scary thoughts ran through Clay's mind as she thought of what was happening, and she struggled harder, ignoring Simon's laughs.

"They need me!" she said through gritted teeth, reaching blindly for the phone. Simon just rolled his eyes at her attempts and sighed.

"There are a lot of other good doctors at the hospital too! They can take care of it for awhile. You're not the only best." He had a point. The hospital was filled with older, more experienced doctors than herself. Surely she could take a day off.

"You're right," she said with a sigh, feigning defeat. As soon as Simon lowered his arm, Clary grabbed her phone and yanked it from his grasp. But Simon was faster. He pulled the phone from her hand and threatening held it underneath his foot. "Simon, please don't!" Clary begged, not wanting him to crush her phone. Her connection to the outside world. Simon sighed melodramatically.

"You've given me no choice. If you press 'call' one more time, I will be forced to put your phone in the blender and shred it to pieces," he replied. Clary glared at him. Simon stared back, his brown eyes twinkling. Clary finally gave in, heaving a sigh.

"Fine, alright. I won't take any more calls." Simon let out a relieved breath.

The home phone rang.

"Don't you dare."

Clary dared.

**XOXOXOXO**

"Why are you so late?!" Seb bombarded her with questions as soon as the elevator opened. The chatter of other doctors and nurses bombarded Clary in the face, hitting her much harder than she cared for. Clary sighed, remembering what happened earlier that morning.

"Simon wanted me to rest," she replied, narrowing her eyes at Sebastian. "Thanks for calling me in." She responded dryly, sipping her mocha while her green eyes burned into Sebastian's skull.

"No problem, Doc. You weren't answering your cell or pager so I called your home phone—"

"Wasn't it _your _idea in the first place to give me a day off?" she said, cutting him off. Clary refused to glance at him as they walked down the hall together, nurses bustling around busily. Seb stuttered, his words an unintelligible babble. "You know what, never mind, Seb." Clary pushed forward ahead of her intern, leaving him trailing behind her. She never actually meant to be so mean to him, but Seb just got on her nerves like a brother would tick off his sister. Not that she minded being at work though. She lived for it. Helping people. After a moment's awkward silence, Sebastian was by her side again, looking down at his clipboard.

"The man that was brought in yesterday was identified. Apparently, you're his assigned doctor. He's in a couple rooms down next to C Wing." Clary's eyes narrowed as she continued with her walk straight ahead. Angel-like John Doe.

"Thanks Verlac, I'll attend to him," she replied. Sebastian stiffened besides her. She never called him Verlac unless she was fed up with him. Trying to brush it aside, Sebastian handed her the clipboard and Clary took it, nodding her thanks. "Take a break," she called behind him when she broke into a slow jog, jaw set as she made her way over to C Wing.

**XOXOXOXO**

A cold breeze rushed into the room, and Jace shuddered involuntarily. He squeezed the scratchy blankets with one fist. A soft voice began to murmur, penetrating the darkness. He could barely make out what she was saying. "John Doe… Concussion… Motorcycle accident…" blearily, Jace forced his eyes open.

In front of him was a tiny girl, no, woman, who had a clipboard in one arm. Her eyebrow was arched up to her forehead as she checked out his file, and her eyes scanned it over. Her hair was a mass of red curls which made her head seem bigger than it really was. She wore a doctor's coat, her pale skin almost as white as her coat. Jace cleared his throat.

The woman turned to him and the color of her eyes nearly startled Jace. They were a shocking green color, making her face stand out, features defined. There were small freckles on her face, and her eyes blinked at him. "Good, you're awake." She sounded pleased, relieved. Making her way over to his bedside, Jace's eyes never faltered, watching her every movement. "I'm Doctor Fray," she said, looking back down at her clipboard. Jace studied her face and watched as she concentrated, trying to dig out every piece of information she needed. "I'll be attending to you." She looked back up from her clipboard, eyes narrowing when she caught Jace staring at her. He blinked, still staring at her, a small grin gracing his mouth. She arched an eyebrow at him and looked back down, trying to study her notes, but Jace still caught her cheeks flush as red as her fiery hair.

"No one can blame you for looking, Dollface," he drawled, leaning back, despite his limbs which screamed at him to stop moving. Clay's eyes didn't meet his as she skimmed through her notes again.

"Well, considering you have a bandaged head _and _a big, ugly black eye, yes I agree. No one can blame me for looking." Her tone was threatening and unwavering as she continued to look through her notes, a small smirk threatening to spill over her small lips. Jace was caught off guard. Not once had a woman talked to him like that— threatening him or not giving into his flirts. The only exceptions would have to be his mother and grandmother. Clary's retort had taken him by surprise, but he hurriedly covered up and composed himself.

"Even while injured, I still am very attractive," he replied, looking at her. Clary looked up once, studying him, green eyes burning into his gold one's. She almost looked strained as she looked at him, but she didn't say anything. Clary continued to skim through the notes that had been left, and her eyes lit up when she found something slightly interesting. His name (good. She was sick of calling him 'John Doe'.)

"Alright, _Jace_. Let's see. Concussion. A couple stitches on your head because while on your motorcycle I can see you were probably being reckless and slammed your head into something." He gawked at her once. "And then you probably hit your nose and the rest of your face into the pavement, concluding your nasally voice and baseball eye." Dang, she was nasty. She had basically pinpointed everything, but Jace was not going to let her win. He would absolutely _not _lose to a small girl such as herself.

"Alright then, _Clary_," he said smoothly, eyeing the tag she wore on her coat: DOCTOR CLARY FRAY. "Let's have ourselves a little deal." She raised an eyebrow at him before crossing her arms over her chest. A scowl was on her face, but her eyes twinkled with curiosity. Jace's smirk grew. "After I get out of here, I'm going to be stunningly attractive. Although, I already know that will happen." He paused to laugh. "So after I get out of this hell hole, you and I are going on a date." She was right. His voice sounded ridiculous, but Jace did his best to make it sound as normal as possible.

"How about we focus on getting you better first," Clary replied, ducking her head as she didn't meet his eyes. She was blushing furiously. Jace smirked at her triumphantly.

"You're ignoring the question," Jace said to her, weakly raising his hand to run his fingers down her arm. Clary didn't jerk it away instantly, making Jace raise an eyebrow at her. "What do you say, Dollface?" he whispered. She looked at him for a fleeting moment.

"How about we focus on getting you better," she repeated, cheeks flaming with embarrassment, and with that, Clary turned and left.

* * *

_Author's Note: Aww aww aww. Hahaha, wow first impressions… any thoughts?_


	3. ¿Qué demonios?

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to Padamoose, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_Author's Note: So as cheesy as this sounds, omg I love you guys so much. As an author, I just love readers. Hehehe. Thanks to my new and lovely beta wolfluvermh. Muah!_

_Umm, I know my chapters aren't that long, so how about this, I have a question._

_Long chapters (like, _really_ long) with an update about every two weeks_

_Or_

_Short chapters (2k+ words) with an update every week?_

_Let me know!_

* * *

"Wow. You look _terrible_."

"Thanks, Alec. That means a lot, considering I was in an accident twenty four hours ago," Jace snapped at his friend, glaring at him, gold eyes flashing dangerously; there was no joking manner on his face. A pair of ice blue eyes stared back at him; Alec blinked. An awkward silence hung around the room. Alec tried to break it, averting his eyes away from Jace's accusing, angry stare.

"Well, I brought you food." Alec shrugged, setting it down on the table besides Jace's bed. Alec's kindness went unnoticed when Jace was around. Not that he didn't appreciate his friend, he did; he had a hard time expressing his feelings of gratitude to Alec. Such raucous behavior had earned himself the nickname "Selfish Ass". His stomach rumbled, doing flip flops and somersaults, as if his intestines were having a gymnastics party. A puddle of droop started to pool at the corner of his mouth, but Jace swallowed it back down quickly. Eyes brightening, Jace forced himself to sit up, the smell of Taco Bell flooding his senses.

"Thank you, Alec. Anything's better than the hospital crap they have to offer here," Jace said, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand as if to emphasize. The food was probably baked in some revolting place that got everyone sicker than before. Jace was almost positive about that fact. Alec nodded, knowingly.

"Yes, well, why do you think I brought you this delicious yet fake Mexican fast food?" he laughed to himself as he sat in one of the plastic chairs besides his roommate and best friend. Jace paid no mind to what Alec had just said, greedily digging into the Beefy Supreme Burrito and root-beer Alec brought him.

"Chow time," Jace replied, a bit of drool leaking out of from the corners of his mouth.

XOXOXOXO

Clary's thoughts spiraled everywhere as she tried to process what happened the previous day.

Her patient had hit on her.

She liked it.

She kind of flirted back.

He was incredibly, extremely, smoking gorgeous.

And when he ran his hand up her arm, she felt like she was on fire. Everywhere he made contact with her, she seemed to flare with embarrassment. Or lust, was that it? She tried to shake those thoughts from her head, telling herself over and over again that he was just one of those players, probably intentionally getting in the accident to get some attention. But really, was anyone stupid enough to do that? Clary sipped her warm mocha and stirred the straw aimlessly before taking a deep breath and pushing the door to Jace's room open after softly knocking.

"Hello again," she greeted cheerfully. Much too cheery. Dang it Clary, get real. He's just a patient. Act completely normal. Clary turned to him. Jace was ravenously tearing apart what looked like a burrito, a Taco Bell take-out bag carelessly thrown to the floor. Next to him was another man, who Clary came to conclusion was probably (HOPEFULLY) just his friend. Upon seeing her, Jace tried to swallow his burrito before using a napkin to wipe the excess amounts of food that lingered on his face.

"Hey, Dollface." Even in a moment of weakness, he still looked completely composed. His gold eyes pierced her soul, and it made her weak in the knees, as if she was stark naked in front of him. She might as well have been due to her school girl behavior. Doing the best to ignore his snarky greeting and his smoldering stare, Clary looked down at her clipboard before setting down her mocha on the nightstand and walking over to Jace. He looked at her from where he was propped up by the pillows, gold eyes glinting with an unreadable expression. Clary immediately turned on her doctor mode, a determined spangle in her eyes.

"Lay back," she ordered him. Her voice didn't tremble; it was completely authoritative. She was the one in control. She saw Jace look at her in shock, wearing Clary's feelings clear on his face. Clary was surprised she had that amount of strength in her to order someone around like that. But of course, _she_was the doctor so… After a moment, Jace laid back, falling into the pillows. Clary let out a sigh, going over to the sink and scrubbed her hands down, massaging the soap through her fingers before drying her hands off.

"Please forgive me, my hands are cold." Clary moved back over to Jace, hovering over him. His gold eyes never left her face, staring at her in a look that resembled curiosity and something else. Clary couldn't tell what it was, but some part of her was excited with it. Letting out a breath, Clary weakly pressed her fingers to Jace's forehead, feeling his temperature. She felt him tense underneath her hand, the chill hitting him, but Clary didn't draw back. Her heart pounded in her chest once they made contact, and she took deep, long breaths to at least attempt to calm herself. Clary left her hand there for a moment, resting on his smooth skin, his forehead before pulling her hand away.

"Well, you don't seem to have a fever, that's good." She picked up her clipboard again and scribbled something down. While writing, she heard Jace's smooth voice float over to her.

"How would you know? You didn't use a thermometer." Clary froze, stopping what she was doing, green eyes narrowing as she peered at Jace from over her clipboard. Everyone at the hospital knew it was best not to insult Clary's intelligence or skill. Everyone knew she might have well been a damn genius, so no one questioned her. My my, this boy was pushing all her buttons. Shaking her head, Clary hissed slightly.

"I've done this more times than you've kissed a girl," she countered sharply, but instantly regretted her choice of words when Jace raised an eyebrow at her, eyes flaming. Oh no…

"Oh, defensive are we?" he asked her, sitting up and crossing his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing. Clary raised her chin up, grasping her clipboard and pen tightly in her arms.

"When it comes to questioning my practice, yes," she said coldly, looking back down to make some more notes.

"Well, you didn't have to be mean about it, Dollface," he retorted, his voice rising slightly. Clary scoffed and shook her head, putting her clipboard down so she could glare at him, putting her hands on her hips.

"What is your problem?" Her face was red, Clary knew that, but it was from anger instead of the raw mortification she had experienced the previous day.

"My problem? Sorry Doc, but I'm not the one with the problem," Jace chuckled, putting his hands up in defense. Clary couldn't help but notice his hands were slightly calloused. He had beautiful hands… _Gosh darn it Clary, get a hold of yourself_.

"Just shut up and let me finish my job," she said through gritted teeth. Jace obliged. Letting out a frustrated breath, Clary put her stethoscope to Jace's heart, listening to the soft thump of it beating underneath her stephoscope. It was calm, steady. Definitely not like the erratic beating of hers at the moment. After that, she gently held his chin with one hand and moved it to the left to see the side of his face.

"The swelling of your bruises is going down," she observed, her cold fingers just caressing the side of his face. Jace stiffened, holding a breath. Her touch was light and feathery, gentle and firm at the same time. Was that even possible? Dropping her hand, she made sure his minor scratches were okay and his head was fine. Without hesitation, she pushed the blanket away and pulled up the hem of his shirt, revealing his blunt impact. A purplish, green bruise made its way from his stomach to his side. Clary didn't touch him.

"Whoa, that's going a bit faster than I thought. We've only been on one date," Jace replied. Clary ignored his comment, refusing to be humiliated in front of him any longer.

"Does it hurt?" she asked him, concern bubbling inside her.

"Only when I breathe," he laughed slightly, passing off his injuries with a chuckle. Clary looked at him, a small smile coming across her face; she couldn't help it. It was only an instant long. Clary tugged down his shirt hem down and tucked Jace back into the blankets.

"Well, I think you're going to be okay," Clary said, going back to her clipboard as she jotted down some observations. She looked up to see Alec who had been quiet just about the whole time, making Clary forget he was even there. She addressed Alec instead. "We'll probably keep him here for a few more days, just to make sure there's no swelling in his brain and to make sure his stitches heal." She eyed Jace. "Just for safety," she said brusquely, making Alec smile.

"Alright, we can have consecutive dates now." Jace winked at her, making Clary blush ferociously despite the little voice in her mind that was screaming at her to stop that foolish behavior.

"I'll be back in later to check on you," Clary said without another word or goodbye, scooping up her mocha from the night stand as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

XOXOXOXO

"What was that?" Alec's eyes were wide as he immediately jumped over to sit at the edge of Jace's bed as soon as Clary was gone. The hospital bed squelched in protest, and the sheets rumpled around him.

"Ow, careful," Jace warned, the impact of Alec plopping on the bed disturbing his tender bruises greatly. His muscles screamed in protest, and his head pounded. It felt like construction workers were madly working on hammering on his sides, determined on making him as miserable as possible. As far as Jace was concerned, it seemed to be working. "What was what?" Jace replied, irritated at his friend.

"What just happened?" Alec elaborated, although not by much. He twitched eagerly from the foot of the bed, resembling a giggly little middle school girl. Jace rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to knock Alec upside the head. It would just be a simple blow against his cheekbone… but that would be a sure way to end a friendship, however tentative it might've been.

"Nothing," he replied bitterly. "That girl –" Jace gestured to the door that Clary just left "– is my doctor."

"Uh huh," Alec began, giving Jace a significant look. One of those eyebrows cocked. "And…?"

"And what, Alec? Cut to the chase," he snapped at his friend, feeling his eyes begin to twitch. All this yelling at Alec made him ache, and Jace winced, pressing the button for more morphine to be pumped into his IV. It would definitely help out with the pain, the hospital doing their best to relieve his ailment and all, but Jace pushed the button more times than he could count. Alec looked at him in concern, but before he could reply, Jace glared at him. "I'm fine." Taken aback, Alec nodded slightly, answering his question in a soft voice.

"Well, when she came in… you seemed… _startled_," Alec tried to find the right words, looking rather confused himself as he scratched his head, raking it through his dark black hair.

"She was so… _feisty_," Jace started, glaring at the door as if Clary would walk back through it to tend to him again. And Jace couldn't help but think it was incredibly sexy as well. Alec half-laughed besides him, nodding his head. He pauses, then shaking it instead.

"Yeah, you never let any woman talk to you like that unless it's your mom or your grandma."

"My thoughts exactly," Jace mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest irritably, idly toying with the IV tube that winded from one of his veins in his hands to the machine it was hooked up to. The silence that followed was dreadful, and the other sound besides Jace's sharp breaths was the droning beeps of the machine.

"Well," Alec said after a pause, "I best be off." The morphine was starting to kick in, making Jace's mind fuzzy, and his body tired. With his drug-induced weariness, all of Alec's words slurred together, and he managed to roll his eyes at his friend's word choice, although he didn't reply. He just nodded his head briefly in Alec's direction as he made his way for the door.

"See ya."

"Bye." Alec pulled on the door, but before he stepped out, he cast one last fleeting glance in Jace's direction, an incomprehensible look on his face. Jace found the expression unnerving, and to ease the apprehension, Jace scoffed, beckoning with his hands for Alec to leave.

"Get out already. Your stare is creepy." Now it was Alec's turn to roll his eyes, but he was amused. At least Jace hadn't lost his sense of humor. "And..." Jace rolled his shoulders back and rested his hands behind his head, a small smirk coming up on the corners of his mouth. "The king needs his beauty sleep." Alec laughed loudly before shaking his head.

"Okay, see ya, you Selfish Ass." Alec's laughter faded as he left the room, softly closing the door behind him, leaving Jace alone in the sterile white room with only his echoing thoughts.

XOXOXOXO

"Wow, you look terrible." Clary was assailed with remarks by her friend as soon as she sat down, letting out a long, relieved sigh before looking at her friend squarely in the eye.

"Well thanks Isabelle," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, pulling her red hair out of her ponytail and shaking it out, her curls finally getting a chance to breathe. Her silky red hair brushed against her neck. Isabelle laughed, the sound echoing around the small café. There was hardly anyone in there, which came as a surprise to Clary, considering New York was bustling with activity practically_everywhere_she went. Might as well enjoy the peace when she can.

Isabelle and Clary always snacked at the small café, which was a couple blocks away from the hospital and hidden from people who didn't know the area, which is why tourists and newbies tended to miss it. The bold yellow color tended to make it stand out, but not many people gave it a chance, wanting to go over to Starbucks. The building _did_happen to be next to some abandoned prison that was made in the 1800s or whatever, so that could be a factor to the emptiness. The café was owned by a small Hispanic man with a plush mustache. The lively man practically _lived_in the café, but Pedro was nice, always giving Isabelle and Clary discounts because they went there every day for their break. It was a quaint place, the only sound (besides the active traffic) was faint Mexican music playing from the radio in the back and the grills and coffee makers as food and drinks were being produced. There were about five booths, three tables and two chairs at the island. The yellow walls made New York seem just a little brighter than it was which Clary liked. The tables were covered with checkered red and white tablecloths, and children's drawings surrounded the place, covering almost every inch of the walls. On the counter sat a picture of Pedro and what Clary presumed was his family, but not once did he bring his children to work, which Clary thought odd. She shrugged her thoughts away and looked back at Isabelle.

Isabelle was another one of Clary's best friends (the first best friend being Simon, of course). She was drop dead gorgeous, her thick black hair was always shiny, and she was tall, too. Clary always found herself envying the slender girl's towering beauty. Isabelle was one of the best nurses at the hospital, working shifts alongside Clary, so they were always spending time together, a hospital perk as Clary called it. Rarely did she get to see any of her friends, but at least Isabelle shared her passion for helping people, so she was constantly by Clary's side, tending to her patients and catching up with her in between shifts and during breaks, much to Clary's relief.

Isabelle twirled her straw in her drink, tracing small patterns into her black coffee. Clary cracked a small smile at her friend, and Isabelle just offered her another smile and a wink.

"I know, Seb told me _all_about your new patient. He said you were practically drooling on him," she said with a snort. "Imagine that? Doctor Fray drooling over a _patient_. Never saw that coming. Honestly Clary, you gotta set your standards higher than that." Clary nearly spit out the rest of her drink, coughing slightly. "Sebastian told you that?"

Isabelle nodded, her blue eyes light with enthusiasm as she flashed Clary a look that said, "I know something that you don't".

"Yup."

"Dang it Seb…" Clary closed her eyes, trying to control her temper as she desperately tried to shake thoughts of her intern out of her mind. He was always blabbing to Isabelle about Clary, but that was just because he thought Isabelle was _very_pretty. _She would not worry about work. She would not worry about work_. That was a chant that Clary constantly practiced every day and routinely failed, as demonstrated.

"Senorita Clary? Que pasa?" [Miss Clary! What's going on?] Pedro's voice floated over to their table, and Clary smiled and waved at him, momentarily distracted from Isabelle. The older man looked over at them, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled, his mouth barely visible from his mustache.

"Hola Pedro! Nada. ¿Puedo obtener la costumbre?" [Hello Pedro! Nothing much. Can I get the usual?]

"Si, Senorita!" [Yes, Miss!] Clary smiled as Pedro turned his back on them to bring Clary's normal meal: a cheesy omelet. Her mouth watered just thinking about it. The way the cheese melted in your mouth as the egg delicately crumbled beneath your teeth…

"Oh, and Clary?" Isabelle snapped a finger in front of her friend's face, trying to capture her friend's attention.

"Jesus! What Isabelle?" Clary asked, jumping back, startled. Isabelle's smirk grew, and Clary's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Isabelle was about to reply before her phone rang. She looked apologetically at her friend before leaning over to dig her phone out of her purse, the song "Sexy and I Know It" blasting from her phone, signaling her brother's ring tone.

"Sorry, it might be important. We just found out that Alec's roommate was admitted to the hospital last night." Isabelle said before answering the phone, her eyebrows knitting together in worry as she answered. "Hello?" Isabelle bit her lip slightly before twirling a piece of black hair in her finger before nodding and answering with a "Yeah" or "Mmm." Clary sat back awkward until Pedro came to their table and placed her entrée on the table, making Clary's stomach rumble from hunger. She smiled up at the friendly man, who grinned back at her enthusiastically.

"Muchos Gracias, Pedro!" [Thank you so much Pedro!] He nodded before retreating back to the counter leaving Clary with her omelet. Picking up the silver fork, she stared at her reflection for a brief moment, her stomach growling. The person who stared back at her looked ravenous, almost inhuman. That was definitely not her. Clary eagerly spooned her omelet onto her fork and was about to take a bite before Isabelle spoke up again, almost making Clary pee herself as she heard Isabelle's last words.

"Okay, thanks Alec. Tell Jace I said hello."

What the hell?


	4. Confused

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to Padamoose, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_I accidentally deleted this chapter. Oops. I reposted it but omg sorry xD_

_Author's Note: So, I'll be trying to update this story at least once a week, but no promises, because gah high school is bleh and all those tests and good stuff like that *le sad face* Thanks to my beautiful beta, wolfluvermh MUAH. I was too excited to wait for her to edit this, sorry, haha so if you catch any mistakes..._

_ I'm doing my best to get back to each and every one of you who reviewed my story because I want to thank you all personally, but sometimes I can't get around to it. Bah, I love you all so much._

* * *

"_Jace_?" Clary asked, her voice raising an octave in surprise. Her heartbeat increased rapidly, and she felt goosebumps rise on her arms. Her hand instinctively flew to her mouth, and the other which had the fork in it, clattered to the plate. Clary's mind whirled in confusion, and she pinched her arm, checking to see if she heard Isabelle right. Her friend arched a dark eyebrow at her and put the phone away, nodding slightly, her eyes bright with thought.

"Yeah, Jace Herondale." Clary gaped, her mouth practically dropping to the floor. Jace Herondale? _The _Jace Herondale? Her sexy-flirtatious-man whore-patient? No way. It wasn't possible. But it was a small world, huh? The next thing Isabelle would tell her was that she went out with Sebastian or something.

"Well, he happens to be my patient!" Isabelle's eyes widened significantly at Clary's remark, her mouth dropping in surprise so both friends' expressions matched. For a moment, the two of them just stared at the other, completely dumbfounded, eyes as round as saucers and mouths open wide. They stared at each other, shocked. Clary fought to form words into her mouth, but nothing seemed to work, so she just snapped her mouth shut and cleared her throat. Isabelle struggled to gain her composure, running her fingers through her hair like she did when she was nervous or excited or frustrated, but this time, her eyes twinkled with light, a small smirk splashed onto her white face.

"Alec's going to get a kick out of this…" she laughed lightly, and Clary shook her head back and forth quickly, her red curls flying. The thought of anyone else knowing that she was having flirtations (which _he _was enforcing) with Jace Herondale was something rather horrifying. Isabelle was right; there was no way she would be stooping that low. Letting out a regretful sigh for mentioning anything of that sort to Isabelle, Clary absently ate her omelet which no longer seemed enjoyable.

It was delicious though, and for a moment, Clary forgot she was even in the café as she chewed slowly, prepared to savor every bite. The cheese melted in her mouth and slid down her throat easily, the soft tang of spice still evident as she continued to chew, closing her eyes as she relished her small moment of complete and undisturbed opportunity of joy.

"Okay, I know you really like that omelet and all, but honestly Clary, with the noises you're making it reminds me of when—"

"Ugh, say no more! The last thing I want in my mind is some hanky panky doo da experience!" Clary scowled, rolling her eyes as she tried to swallow the remnants of her now finished omelet. Isabelle just chuckled, shaking her head and sipping her coffee once more.

"Fine," she said with a shrug of her shoulders as she slumped forward slightly, silence filling between the two. It wasn't uncomfortable silence; they sat there, no more words needing to be said. Pedro shattered it as his booming voice came from the background.

"Senorita Clary, te gusta su tortilla?" [Miss Clary, did you like your omelet?] Isabelle grumbled something under her breath about not getting any peace around New York as she sat back, picking up her phone as she scrolled through her old texts and checked the weather and did all the other things she did when she was bored. Clary ignored her friend and nodded over at Pedro, giving him a thumbs up.

"Es muy bueno!" [It's great!] She called over to him, nodding earnestly. Pedro laughed out loud before turning back to whatever he was doing. Clary looked back at Isabelle who had a slightly annoyed look on her face.

"What?" Clary asked.

"Ugh, why can you speak another language. It's so frustrating to just know one," Isabelle complained, resting her elbows on the table as her head dipped to the ground in mock sadness. Clary reached over and patted Isabelle's head comfortingly, sighing slightly before looking at her, a light in her eye.

"Hey, that's not true, don't you speak French?"

"Si…"

"No, that's Spanish."

Isabelle let out an annoyed sigh and looked up at Clary, a line forming on her forehead. Clary studied her friend, glancing over to make sure she was alright. "Hey, you okay?" she asked, apprehension lingering in her soft voice. Isabelle shook her head softly.

"No Clary, I'm not alright." She raked her black hair out of her eyes and her mouth fell into a slight frown. Clary looked at her closely until she realized Isabelle was right. Her white skin looked rather ashy instead of creamy, and her lips were chapped, a cold sore forming on her bottom lip. Her blue eyes seemed to be losing their color so they appeared my gray than blue. Clary was sure she could almost see right _through _Isabelle's distant eyes and into her skull, but she offered a weak smile instead before nodding, lips pursed together as she waited for her friend to rant. But it never came. Usually if something was bothering Isabelle, everything would just automatically pour out like someone who was puking up their whole week's worth of breakfast, lunch and dinner. She knew Isabelle was a strong woman, but there was something about her today that made Clary uneasy. How distant she seemed.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Clary said, leaning closer to her friend so she was a couple inches away from her friend's ashen face. Isabelle nodded, flashing Clary a feeble, unsuccessful smile. There was something off about the way she was today. If it was about the phone call from Alec or when she checked her texts, Clary didn't know _what_, but sometimes Isabelle had these random fits where she seemed to just totally blow up or sob uncontrollably. Clary was used to them by now, but it still worried her.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Isabelle said, nodding her head. For a moment, Clary would've believed her if it weren't for what Isabelle said not even minutes before. _No, I'm not alright…_

"You just said you weren't alright," Clary pointed out, frowning ever so slightly as she looked at her friend in confusion. Isabelle stood up, the chair making an ungodly screech as she pulled back, standing up.

"I'm fine, God, Clary." Clary stared at her friend in shock, looking at her friend, mouth open in shock as she peered at her almost fearfully. She didn't push it though. Eventually Isabelle would cool down and come back, but in the moment, she looked beautiful at the same time as terrifying. "I…" Isabelle struggled to get the words out of her mouth as she shook her head, rubbing her temples with her fingers. "I just need some time to clear my head." She scooted the chair in and tucked her purse under her arm, staring remorsefully at her friend. "I'm sorry Clary," she apologized, "I'll call you later." Clary nodded, forcing a smile in Isabelle's direction before the girl took off, leaving Clary alone with an empty plate and a shock look on her face.

**XOXOXOXO**

"I honestly don't know Simon, she's so… I don't even know how to explain it!" Clary had screamed into the phone. After Isabelle's outburst, Clary had called Simon, itching to talk to someone— anyone. Simon was always a good friend. He never interrogated her when she ranted. He picked up on the third ring, and being typical Clary, she did not begin with 'Hello' but dove into her conversation instantaneously. "Gah, Simon. I honestly don't even know what to do with Isabelle right now. She's distracted. It's like she had a bad date or something. I mean, yes, I am deeply concerned for her well being, but if she lets anything get in the way of her work… Hello? Are you listening?"

Simon, who was on the other line, was oddly quiet. Clary knew he was there, listening, but he wasn't replying, even when she asked him too. Letting out a frustrated huff, she rubbed her temples before sighing dramatically, eye twitching in annoyance. Was he not listening? "Hello? Earth to Simon!" she said loudly into the phone, pressing it to her ear more as she balanced her backpack on her back and books in her arms. The roar of New York traffic at twelve in the afternoon wasn't helping much, but she wasn't paying attention. Clary faded it out as she strained to listen to her friend's reply. Simon cleared his throat, and when he responded, his voice was quite small.

"Yes, I'm here."

"So what do you think I should do? Normally if Isabelle has a bad date she just usually finds some other guy to hook up with at a bar—"

"I was the guy."

Clary froze, shock etched on her face as the deadly silence between the two hung in the air like a blanket of fog. Suspended and not able to push forward. She clutched the phone shakily. "W-wait. What?" time seemed to stop briefly, and Clary momentarily forgot she was surrounded by many strangers who pushed past her, worriedly trying to get to work on time. The rest of the world faded out, and Simon was all that mattered. It was only her and Simon.

"I was the rebound guy," Simon repeated, his voice clear. He gulped, and Clary winced, feeling bad for not knowing this before. Of course, Simon didn't tell her everything, but this? Clary heard the slight tremor in her voice as she forced the lump down her throat as she responded.

"What?"

"Goddamn it Clary, I'm not going to say it again!" Simon snapped, making Clary jump slightly as if he had just slapped her. There was an amount of stress in his voice as he spoke, something that usually wasn't in Simon. He cleared his throat.

"Isabelle just broke up with her boyfriend, I forgot his name. But I saw her a couple nights ago in the club, and we kind of talked, and then…" he paused momentarily, his voice catching. "And then we…" there was nothing else to be said, and a small gasp escaped Clary's mouth, and her hand flew to her lips, eyes widening. Her two best friends had hooked up? Confusion swirled in her mind as she tried to put everything together, but her mind was mush, not letting her think clearly. The only thing Clary managed to say was:

"Where was I?" the silence endured forever as she waited for Simon's response.

"At work, like usual," he spat out and the dial tone appeared when Simon hung up, as soon as he hung up. Clary stood there, alone. The feeling was worse than being scolded by her mother when she was little for doing something wrong. When she was a young child, all it took was a small, 'I'm sorry' and then everything was forgiven. The world didn't work like that anymore. Clary was an adult now; she hurt people, and she missed the first opportunity to apologize, which strained her few relationships she had even more.

Simon's words stung more than they should have, and Clary forced the lump down her throat as she felt the sting of tears start to form. Pushing them away, Clary wiped her eyes and put her phone away, calling for a taxi to take her back to the hospital. After today, she swore she would take a break.

**XOXOXOXO**

Jace dozed off, his eyes heavy with sleep. He tried to relax, he really did, and he liked sleeping. Yes, the great Jace Herondale liked sleeping. It made him forget about all his troubles temporarily, and he was perfectly okay with doing so. His father said sleeping was good for you, and Jace always put this into practice and took it very seriously. In the distance, he could hear the faint roar of the television, probably left on by Alec, and the soft beeps which had receded to the depths of his brain, serving as nothing but a routine now. He yawned and turned to his side, trying his best to ignore the scratchy texture of the blanket which was considerably hard considering it was surrounding him like the air he breathed. He snuggled farther from it, his hand gripping at anything he could reach. His hands curled instinctively around something that was indeed soft, but it was _warm _too, as if it was a living thing. Paying no mind to it, Jace squeezed tighter and rolled slightly to his side, his weight resting on whatever he gripped. Suddenly, it twitched.

"I would deeply appreciate it if you let go of my hand." The voice was curt and had a strained tone, but it was definitely familiar. Jace's eyes flew open in shock, and he looked over to see the one and only Clary Fray herself. She was furious red color, and she struggled, for what reason, Jace did not fathom. He looked up at her, a lazy smirk coming onto his face.

"Hello to you too Dollface." He studied her, arching an eyebrow at her as he looked her over critically. She looked… _tired._ Her face was a ghastly pale, too light to possibly be healthy in any way. Jace could tell she was in no mood for his jokes. His smile fell. Then he felt a slight flutter from underneath him. _Movement_. Drawing back in surprise and rolling over, he watched as Clary's hand, which had been pinned underneath him fly back to her chest as she cradled it protectively against her.

"I was just checking up on you… and you sort of… grabbed my hand," Clary said, a flustered look on her face. Jace felt slightly mortified that he would even _do _such a thing, but he struggled to regain his composure, pausing to clear his throat.

"The blankets itch," he responded casually.

"So you needed my _hand _instead?" Clary asked, her face now hidden by that ridiculously large clipboard again. Her voice was muffled from behind it, and Jace nodded slightly.

"It was better than the blankets."

"So you're saying you'd rather have my hands all over you rather than the blankets?" Clary set her clipboard to stare at him, blushing furiously for choosing the word choice she did, but she held her head high and looked Jace directly in the eye, refusing to be intimidated by him any further.

"Interesting word choice…" Jace mused, sitting up slightly, blinking away any remnants of sleep that was in his eyes. "But no." Clary felt crestfallen, honestly quite hoping she had won that battle, but apparently not. Jace's gold eyes glimmered as he looked her over, studying her reaction. To avoid his eyes, she reached for the clipboard again and scribbled down something else before pausing at the side of his bed, looking at the man propped up by the pillows. "Are you going to continue staring at me or are you going to do your job?" he asked. Clary shushed him with a roll of her eyes and a hand gesture to make him lay down.

Jace gulped as Clary's hands made their way to his face, and her cool skin collided with his, an electric shock pulsing through them both. But it wasn't one from electricity build up in the carpets or whatever. It was different. Her fingers danced freely across his face, and he sucked in a breath as she stroked his face gently, tilting it to one side then the other, inspecting his bruises with careful examination and her keen eye. Jace watched as her eyebrows crinkled together in deep concentration as she gave him a thorough inspection, and her eyes lit up, clearly relieved.

"Good, you're healing mighty fine, Herondale," she said, her voice delighted. "Your bruises are fading." Clary turned away to jot something down in her notes once more that Jace looked her over, eyes drinking in the sight of Clary. She was small, and the doctor's coat looked big compared to her, a small little thing. Almost a girl. She didn't have big curves, so the doctor's coat fell in awkward places around her, and her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, red curls spewing around her head like lava exploding from a volcano. "How's your biggie?" Clary's voice startled him, and he nodded, pulling up the hem of his t-shirt to poke at his 'biggie', Clary's nickname for the biggest bruise. He traced it softly with one finger, careful not to touch it.

"Just grand," he said, his voice hinting towards sarcasm. Clary made her way over to the side of him and looked at it carefully, bending down slightly so she could touch it herself, her touch as light as a feather. If Jace wasn't seeing her do it herself, he never would've thought it was there.

"Mighty fine," she agreed with a small smile, tucking him back in before grabbing his hand gently. Jace raised a chastening eyebrow at her as if to retort, but Clary tsked, nodding slightly. Jace didn't know what the hell she meant. She and her doctor talk, but gosh he found it sexy.

"Well, you don't seem to be in so much pain, so the good news is we can take this IV out of your hand now," Clary sounded pleased. "And I'll release you from the hospital tonight if you continue to show good progress. It was Jace's turn to be relieved. He exhaled a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. It felt good to breathe again. Jace offered her another smirk as Clary went over to the cabinet, putting on some latex gloves and getting all her supplies she needed to remove his IV.

"You've done a 'mighty swell' job there, Fray," he said. Clary's back was turned towards him, but he knew she was smiling. She came back, propping a pillow underneath his arm and turned his hand towards her, resting it on the pillow too, her purple gloved hands touching his gingerly.

"I'll say," Clary replied. She didn't talk for another couple minutes as she worked on the IV, removing the drip from the IV and tossing it to the tray she had propped at the foot of Jace's bed. She squirted saline into the IV, and Jace gagged dramatically, the scent of salt going up his nostrils and into his head, making it spin slightly. "You alright?" Clary asked, stopping momentarily to look at Jace, green eyes alarmed. He nodded.

"Just tastes like salt, Dollface."

"A lot of our patients taste it. I find that fact rather odd." She stopped the flow of the saline and placed it on the tray before pressing a wad of white, cotton gauze against Jace's skin, at the spot where the plastic tube went into his hand. Clary applied a good amount of pressure before pulling the IV out easily and placing it triumphantly on the silver tray. "Hold your gauze in place, please," she beckoned for Jace. He warily placed his fingers on top of hers, and Clary rolled her eyes. "_After _I move my fingers Herondale," she retorted playfully, stifling a laugh. He nodded and did as he was told.

"Sure thing Fray."

Flirting was new to Clary, but she liked it. Using some medical tape, she taped the gauze onto his arm, smiling down to admire her handiwork. "All done," she replied. "Aline will look in on you later to see if you are fit to go home." Clary stood up, placing her tray on a counter and removing her gloves, throwing them away before washing her hands for what seemed like the millionth time again. Jace smirked. Clary made her way to the door, but just as her fingers hit the cold handle, he called out to her.

"So how about that date you promised me?" he asked. Jace was mildly surprised with himself for sounding desperate, and he forced the hopeful tone out of his voice, as he looked at her calmly. An unreadable expression lingered on Clary's face.

"We'll see." She opened the door and left, but Jace could see that she was leaning towards accepting…

* * *

_Author's Note:_

_Jace towered over you, his hands resting on your waist, his gold eyes lingering on your face. He leaned over towards your neck, and his breath tickled your ear as he said to you, "review…"_


	5. The Date

_IMPORTANT. PLEASE READ: During this chapter, I use italics. This indicate__s_ **FLASHBACKS**. _I don't use this tactic a lot, but I will because you need to know that Clary is flashbacking in this chapter. The dialogue in italics, (the flashbacks) are not between Clary and Jace. Okay._

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to 0kay Okay, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_Author's Note: Gah, I promise that I won't leave another author's note like that. Whoops. I've been really busy, sorry, but I hope this long chapter quenches your thirst. Drink fledglings…XD I also have a feeling you'll like this chapter c; Again, I thank my lovely, beautiful beta Wolfluvermh._

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"Okay Jace, I'm Aline, your nurse." A young woman came into the room with a friendly smile on her face, carrying a clipboard in one of her arms, the other one sagging freely at her side. Her brown hair swept just past her shoulders, and Jace sat up, a smirk dangling at the edges of his mouth. He sat up, alert, and tried to look as healthy as possible not only for the sake of the longing to be safe in his own home, but because Dollface was stubborn. Maybe she could use something to motivate her to go on that date…

"Hello Aline, my nurse," Jace replied with a smirk twisting his features. Aline froze for a moment. Her eyes ran up and down Jace in curiosity before she shook her head, laughing.

"No one has ever used that on me before," she mused, snapping on some pink latex gloves, stretching out her fingers. She stared at them for while fitting them to her hands. Jace raised an eyebrow at her and cocked his head to one side, eyes glinting.

"What, 'I'll be your nurse,' 'hello, my nurse'?" Jace shook his head, his usual charm coming through. As he continued to grow stronger and stronger, his sarcasm and appeal also returned. "M'dear, how long have you been a nurse?" Aline paused what she was doing, blinking slowly as if giving the question a great amount of thought, drumming her thin fingers on her sweat-lanced knee.

"Three months," she replied stiffly, moving over to Jace's bedside. Hesitantly, her hands flitted to his face as the rubber gloves gently stroked the side of his face, along the lines of his fading bruises. Jace stiffened under her touch, expecting to feel some kind of tingle like he had picked up from Clary, but there was nothing. It felt like another one of his routine hook-ups; there was nothing special about it, but it felt good while it lasted. But Clary was special. Jace couldn't even fathom the reasons why her touch felt different. It was light and feathery and smooth and gentle and firm all at the same time. He told himself that it was because she was a doctor and very experienced, but he wasn't so sure. He shivered at the thought of her hands moving over his skin.

Aline stopped, sensing his shudder, and her fingers hovered just over his neck now. "Umm, you alright?" she asked, her voice wary. It had a strange quality to it. When Jace didn't respond, she only laughed it off. "I know I can make a lot of guys feel things but…" Aline paused, clicking her tongue as her free hand went up to his face, stroking it softly as she leaned in closer. Whoa, what? She thought she was making him feel things? Jace was about to protest until she leaned over him, looking directly down at him. There was something between a smug and delighted smirk on her face. Jace was practically choking on her perfume (wasn't it against the rules for employees to be wearing perfume in a hospital?!), and her eyes held a strange expression, one that Jace could not place. Her breath tickled his ear as she responded, her voice a low murmur. "How about after you get out of here I make you feel even more?" Aline whispered, waggling her eyebrows at Jace suggestively. He said nothing, only managed a weak laugh. Aline was definitely one of the girls he would've gone for before his accident, but now he didn't feel like throwing himself at her like some caveman as soon as he got out of the hospital. The idea repulsed him. What the hell? Jace Herondale didn't think that way. What were they putting in their food?

As Aline went to go throw her gloves away, Clary came through the door, a forced smile on her face. Jace looked at her, his eyebrows rising to his forehead, but he said nothing. Not with Aline in the room. "Are you done here, Aline?" Clary asked brightly, again with that strained amount of happiness in her voice. There was something wrong. A blind person could probably notice.

"Yes, Dr. Fray, he seems fine. Ready to go home now when I think about it," Aline called from the other side of the room as she washed her hands, the soap trickling down her fingers to the drain as it swirled around with the water. Clary nodded curtly at the other nurse, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Aline for just a moment; a moment was all she needed.

"So if I'm fine, how about that date, Doc?" Jace said with a wink, pointedly looking at Clary. Aline froze, her body suddenly going rigid. Gritting her teeth, she still stood stiffly at the sink, but she didn't move. The water continued to run, the only sound in the room as Aline continued to contend getting her composure back. Clary's green eyes darted conspicuously between Jace and Aline, who had turned to glare at Jace. Then, Aline's brown eyes flashed dangerously over to Clary. Clary didn't even notice; she was just stared at Jace, ignoring the other nurse completely. There was a sense of urgency in Jace's gold eyes, and Clary looked at him questioningly before he made the smallest gesture with his fingers, pointing subtly to Aline. Clary understood. She chose her reply carefully.

"I'll think about it," she said easily, winking at him. Clary's hands shook as she replied, her heart thumping in her chest. Jace casted a grateful look in her direction, gold eyes glinting. Clary didn't even look at Aline as she addressed her. "Aline, thanks. You're dismissed." Aline cast one last fleeting glance at Jace before huffing and stomping out of the room, leaving Jace and Clary alone.

He let out a sigh of relief, falling back into the pillows, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest. Jace was finally able to breathe properly. "Thanks, Dollface. She scared me." Clary bit back a surprised laugh as she shook her head at him, crossing the room to go stand next to him, inspecting his angry bruises.

"Aline? I thought she'd be more of your type," she joked at him. Clary deeply regretted the words as soon as they flew out of her mouth. Clary didn't say anything, but she didn't look at Jace either. It was completely embarrassed that she had even suggested something like that. It was absolutely improper and inappropriate; Jace was a patient, and patients needed attending to, not to be bashed in by their doctor. Jace's eyes lingered on Clary's face.

"And what is my type, M'dear?"

"Beautiful, busty," Clary said with a shrug, not meeting his eyes. Suddenly, the little red blood stain on the tip of her shoelace looked very appealing; Clary stared at it intently, gazing at how the red stained the sterile white with great contrast, making her shoe seem more conspicuous then it should have been. Clary knew she was probably hurting his feelings at the moment, but she wasn't in the mood for any games. She should probably stay away from Jace if she knew what was good for her. If anything, Clary knew she should work on repairing her relationships at the moment instead of trying to pursue a guy (a hot one, that is). Biting on her bottom lip nervously, she awaited his response.

Jace laughed slightly, shaking his head. "You're beautiful." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, leaving the pair in an awkward silence. There was nothing else to be said. Clary felt the blush rush higher and higher to her cheeks and she cleared her throat, absently tucking a lock of her her hair behind her ear. Jace Herondale, the player— the obnoxiously gorgeous player— had just called her beautiful. She smiled slightly at the thought, her mind whirling and her stomach flip-flopping.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. Clary had the sudden urge to go over to his bedside and attack him with ravenous kisses, but she shook the thought out of her head as she composed herself.

Jace's reply is both surprising and appealing. "So how about that date?" The question startled Clary, but green eyes clashed with gold, and her smile broke onto her face. Jace's hands clenched into his fists as he waited for her response. He gulped. She was going to refuse. She was going to refuse. Clary paused, eyes looking over his face, a strange look in her green eyes.

"Okay, meet me here tomorrow night at seven."

**XOXOXOXO**

In all honesty, Clary could not believe that she had accepted a date with Jace. The idea of even dating again seemed bizarre to Clary. Her heart was thumping in her chest as she swallowed, clearing her throat as she continued to walk down the hallway to the elevator, coat and clothes tucked in one arm with her famous mocha in the other. As she stepped in the elevator, Clary nervously drummed her fingers on her sweat pants, biting the inside of her cheek. This was it. It was official. Clarissa Fray was going on a date for the first time in months. The thought of that made her heart jump, and for a moment, Clary thought she was back in high school, TPing someone's house or throwing eggs at their car. Her heartbeat sped up drastically, and Clary had to take deep, quiet breaths to calm herself down. She hadn't been on a date since… Shaking the thought from her head, Clary let out a quick breath as she stretched. There was no way that the thoughts of her previous relationship would ruin this date. Tonight, it was about her.

It was a day that Clary left work early, and even though she was exhausted, there was something that kept her going. Maybe she would be better if she got out more, took some more time out for herself. She let out a slow breath before shaking her head as the elevator closed, Clary being the only one in it. She was quite rusty on her flirtations, which Clary resented greatly. No woman under the age of forty should be out of their romance skills. She stared up at the ceiling and saw a dim reflection. Clary half-heartedly smiled at her soft image. It half-heartedly smiled back at her, capturing her unease perfectly. She frowned, and it frowned back, mirroring her expression with surprising accuracy. Her hair was messy, tied up in a messy ponytail, and her skin was pale. She had woken up extremely early, and to say that Clary was tired would've been an understatement.

"Hey!" Clary said brightly, practicing her greeting. She scowled slightly. Her voice had had it for the day. She had been in surgery all day, and her eyes were tired. Her voice was rusty and barely audible due to the fact that she had been barking out orders to all the over doctors and nurses as they scurried to follow her instructions. "Hello," she tried again but failed. Her voice was a quiet whisper, and she let out a frustrated noise from underneath her breath. The elevator opened, letting her off at the lobby. Clary checked the clock: 6:45. She still had fifteen minutes.

She made her way over to the bathroom, the one with only one toilet and sink and mirror (not the stalls), apologizing silently to those she bumped into. Clary clutched her coat and bag possessively, slipping into the restroom and closing the door with a quiet click. Clary let out a breath, sliding down the door as she rested on the floor, her face in her hands as she tried to focus. "Come on Clary, focus," she whispered throatily. With a couple intermittent breaths, Clary shakily got up, her legs feeling like Jell-O. She had no idea what had triggered her sudden change in not only mood but strength as well. She suddenly felt drained and unfocused and completely abnormal. Clary hurriedly used the bathroom before slipping out of her doctor's coat and clothes before she appeared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, standing only in her bra and panties. Clary nearly winced.

If it was possible for a person to deteriorate, literally, she would have been the perfect example. Clary's skin had a frighteningly pale pallor to it, and she seemed underfed, some of her ribs showing. She was chillingly skinny, and Clary shivered involuntarily, running her small fingers over her arms. Clary reached over to pull on a turtle-neck sweatshirt and some jeans, retying her hair into a ponytail before applying a light amount of lip gloss. She forced a smile on her face. Even in the most horrible state, her eyes stayed alert. Clary spun around once, wrapping her scarf around her neck before grabbing her doctor clothes as she made her way outside.

The cold chill hit her as soon as she stepped outside, and Clary shivered, digging her freezing hands into her pockets, shivering. The wind was soft, and the late New York hubbub brewed around her, the same old. For a moment, Clary's heart sank slightly when she did not see Jace as she turned expectantly, looking for him. She didn't catch sight of the golden-haired boy at all. He stood her up? It was all a joke. The feeling of rage boiled in her stomach as Clary thought about it, but before she could think any farther, she heard her name being called. She turned.

As if on cue, she caught sight of Jace, who stood a few feet away, his hands in his coat pockets. He had on a leather jacket and some dark jeans, a small smile on his face. Clary wanted to say that he looked beautiful, but she wasn't sure if that would be appropriate for a first date, especially since he was her patient. But Clary did admit he looked fine. His bruises were gone, leaving his face cleared of any blemishes, and his gold eyes shimmered. She smiled slightly and waved over, and he acknowledged her with a nod as he sauntered over to Clary, eyes looking her over.

"You look nice, Doctor Fray," he mused, gold eyes meeting hers. Clary nodded, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Today she was off shift. There was nothing else to do except relax and enjoy a peaceful evening, a date in months. There was no way that she was going to even think about work tonight. There would be absolutely no exception. After all, she wasn't 'Doctor Fray' after hours. Today, she was just her. Clary smiled at Jace, green eyes boring into him as she responded.

"Thanks Jace, you look mighty swell too." Clary grinned. "But… it's not 'Doctor Fray' today." She paused, watching his reaction. His face remained neutral, but something lingered in his eyes. "Tonight, I'm just Clary." She nodded to herself, thinking it over. It had a nice ring to it. Clary. "Just Clary," Clary repeated softly, feeling the need to say her name once more. Jace sniggered.

"Okay, Just Clary, let's go, your pumpkin coach is waiting." Clary rolled her eyes at him despite the smile threatening to spill onto her lips at his wry sense of humor. She followed him, weaving around the people as they stood, waiting for a taxi. It suddenly dawned on her that Jace's motorcycle was probably broken due to the accident. She was curious and wanted to ask him, but Clary knew from personal experience it wasn't good to bring a lost treasure up about a week after its 'death'. "Oh, and this" – Jace pulled out a red rose from behind his back – "is for you." Clary's face brightened as she eagerly took it, a smile dancing on her face. The last time she got a rose…

_"I got these for you…" His voice was shaky and his hands trembled as he handed them to her, a dozen roses, eleven red and one white._

"Thanks," Clary said, shaking her bustling thoughts from her mind as she lifted the soft petals to her nose. "I love it." Clary raised an eyebrow at him, as if saying, 'You got me flowers?' Jace understood and took his hands out of his pockets to raise them in defense.

"I may be a player, but I know how to treat a girl right!" Jace said with a light chuckle. Clary couldn't help but laugh too. She clutched her rose tightly, as if she were to loosen her grip it would blow away in a wind. When she got home, she would put it in a vase on the table and watch it and hope it would stay young and beautiful forever. When it would shrivel and curl unnaturally, she would still love it.

"Where are we going?" she asked, changing the subject immediately. Jace breathed out, his air swirling around them before he shivered slightly, gesturing with his hands.

"Over to this coffee place I found a couple months ago. It's a couple blocks away. Small yellow building…"

"Pedro's!" Clary was ecstatic. Jace, her date, was taking her to Pedro's, her favorite place ever. Her heart soared. He was taking her to Pedro's.

"Yeah," Jace said briskly. He whisked Clary towards a cab before she stopped.

"It's okay, we can walk," she replied, her voice itching with excitement. Clary was suddenly in a better mood than before. It was no problem walking to Pedro's; she did it every day. Jace raised an eyebrow at her before he shook his head slightly.

"What?" she asked.

"Why does your voice sound like that?"

"Been in surgery all day; I was leading it and my voice is kind of dead." The last part came out in a rush and was a hoarse whisper. She swallowed, and her throat felt like it was clogged and dry and out of air all at the same time. It hurt, to say the least. Jace nodded and hurriedly walked down the streets with Clary, his hand lingering on the small of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. His touch was warm and gentle, and he thought nothing of Clary's shivers; he knew it was cold.

"Well, Pedro's hot chocolate is really good, I heard," Jace mused as they continued down the streets. Clary nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I love it."

"Go there often?" He glances at her sideways.

"Everyday, it's my favorite."

Jace laughed and shook his head at her. "You're quite something, Fray."

"I try, Herondale."

_"Have you ever heard of that place on the corner called Pedro's?"_

_"Nuh-huh, is it good?"_

_"Yes. You'll love it, Clary."_

They entered Pedro's sooner than later. It was quiet, with only a couple other people in it. Clary drank in the odoriferous scent, and she sighed longingly, her mouth beginning to water. The food always smelled good here. Pedro was a darn good cook as well. She was both happy and sad that he didn't get a lot of business. His cooking skills were over the top, but if everyone knew about it, then Clary wouldn't have a small little spot to herself. It was nice to have a spot. Jace's chest rumbled slightly as he stifled a laugh of self-inflicted amusement. They took over a booth in the corner, and Clary grinned, immediately reaching over for a menu. Jace slid into the seat opposite of hers.

Pedro came over the pair, a smile twitching on his face from under his mustache. He greeted them warmly, twirling his pen in one hand as he held his notebook in the other. "Hola Senorita Clary. Quien es tu amigo?" [Hello Miss Clary. Who is your friend?] Clary nodded, gesturing to Jace, smiling brightly.

"Mi amigo Jace." [My friend Jace] She nodded encouragingly to Jace who looked back at Pedro, slightly confused. Clary assumed he didn't know Spanish, but he forced himself to respond.

"Err, hola…?" The greeting sounded more like a question. Pedro didn't think twice of it as he hugged Jace warmly, the boy choking on the scent of jalapenos and chili. Pedro continued to rant in Spanish as he hurried to the back counter, smiling and laughing. Jace recovered from the assault quickly, forcing his hair back in place. Pedro dashed back towards them, chanting over and over again.

"I didn't even order yet," Jace said with a frown, "What's he saying?" the continual flow of the foreign language made its way back to them. Clary smiled softly, looking down, slightly embarrassed. Her reply was so soft, Jace had to lean closer to hear it.

"The couple is beautiful."

**XOXOXOXO**

"I had a lovely evening," Clary replied as they walked. The taxi just dropped the pair off at Clary's apartment building, and they made their way slowly towards the doors, not really interested in leaving the other yet. The chill was still there, but Clary barely noticed it; she barely noticed any of her surroundings when she was with Jace.

"Me too, Fray," he said softly. Soon, they stood at the door, not saying anything. Jace continued to gaze down at Clary, his gold eyes twinkling, and Clary looked back up at him, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Because you're beautiful, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simple pleasures of my existence," Jace said boldly. Clary blinked before clearing her throat.

"Is this when you're going to kiss me awkwardly then maybe get an accidental boob grab?" she teased, blushing terribly from his comment. Not that Clary didn't like it, she thought it was romantic, but he was so forward. It took her by surprise.

"Only if you want," he whispered in her ear, the tendrils of his silky voice stroking her skin. Their eyes met, gold against green. Jace swallowed. Clary blinked. They couldn't take their eyes away. Jace slowly and hesitantly tilted Clary's chin up with his long fingers, and he leaned down, close to her, their bodies brushing slightly. Clary's mind was reeling, and her heart was pounding loudly. The blood in her ears roared, and soon, their noses were touching, their breaths mingling together. "Tell me if you want me to stop," Jace whispered, his voice shaking. His façade was slipping. Clary had the privilege to see a softer, gentler version of Jace. And so far, she liked it. But she couldn't do this now. She _couldn't_. It would go against everything that she stood for. No. No. This was everything she wanted, but yet, it wasn't. She had to stop before he got hurt. His eyes closed, and he continually inched towards her. Right at the last second, Clary ducked away from his reach and danced off. Jace stood there, bewildered as he looked at Clary who now stood at least a foot away from him. His look of shock masked his face; his eyes were hurt. Clary quickly forced a smile on her face.

"I'll kiss you on our next date," she said to him, twirling the rose in between her fingers. Jace's smile quickly returned, although it didn't meet his eyes. Clary knew she hurt him.

"So confident that there will be another date?" Jace teased, his act back. His vulnerability was gone and so was the exposed part of him. His mask returned leaving Clary stunned into silence, but she tilted her head to one side and nodded.

"I had a great night," she whispered, blinking back the tears. She wanted to kiss him more than he could know. But Clary would explain that later. She would explain, and he wouldn't have to get hurt.

_"Tonight was lovely. I had a great time.."_

_"As did I, Fray. Goodnight."_

_"I… thank you for the kiss."_

_"Doesn't everyone kiss on their first date?"_

_"Not me."_

_"What, you've never been kissed before?"_

_Silence._

_"Well Clary, I'm honored to be your first kiss."_

_"Thank you. Tonight was… really fun."_

_"I agree. Goodnight, Clary."_

_"Alright, I'll see you later V."_

Clary made her way up to her apartment and closed the door behind her. Falling onto her bed, she cried herself to sleep, her fingers curled desperately around the beautiful crimson rose.


	6. Realizations

_RANT: you aren't required to read this, but oh my gosh so me and this guy we're just texting and all of a sudden he goes:_

_Him: OK_

_Me: 0.0 OKAY._

_Me: We both know the word 'okay' is a very flirty word. It's BURSTING with sensuality._

_Him: OKAY._

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to pluviophile, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_Author's Note: Thanks a bunch to my amazing beta wolfluvermh *MUAH* thank you all for reviewing, I love you all. I try to update regularly, but alas, school is stupid and tests are stupid and blah._

_To answer some of your questions, yes you will find out who 'V' is. And no, it is not Valentine because like one of my reviewers said: GROSS._

_Again, italics are **flashbacks**._

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The room was silent, unless you counted the roar of New York in the streets below, already bustling and alive. The utter chaos was muffled by the thick walls (thank goodness for considerate construction workers), but Clary stirred upon hearing it. She opened her eyes. The first thing she realized was she was in her apartment, in her room, curled up on her bed. The second thing she realized was she had a killer headache, and a wave of nausea started to bottle up inside her. The third thing she realized was she didn't have her rose. Clary swung her body up, bewildered. Her hands crawled frantically over the disarrayed sheets, and she rose from her mattress hurriedly. No no no no no… where was the rose? It mattered to her so much because she was supposed to put it in the vase on the table, not lose it! Frenetically, Clary stumbled out of her room, pulling down the hem of her shirt as she looked around wildly, sniffling slightly as she drew her hand up to wipe her dry tears and rub her swollen eyes. Her heart nearly stopped.

Sitting on the table innocently was her rose. It stood swollen with pride and attentiveness, standing proudly in its vase as Clary wandered over to it, caressing the soft petals in her fingers. A soft smile lingered on her face. Next to the vase was a note, scrawled in Simon's messy handwriting. She picked it up, squinting to see the words clearly.

Went for a walk. I put your rose in a vase— hope you wouldn't mind.

-Si

Clary smiled at the note before lightly setting it back down on the table as she sat on the chair, trying to assess the situation. So she had gone on a date with Jace and was back home, that part was clear. She had almost crushed her rose under her weight, but Simon, being the dear friend he was rescued it. Clary smiled softly as she reached out to the rose again. She would have a heart-to-heart talk with him and make amends. Her phone buzzed, and Clary reached over for it because it too was perched on the counter within an arms-length away.

**Hello.**

Jace? Of course. He had insisted upon exchanging phone numbers. Rolling her eyes as she laughed, Clary responded instantly, making her way over to the window as she watched the traffic go on and on. The weather looked overcast, and the clouds hung dangerously low over the city, covering the sun. It appeared to be atrociously cold outside.

**Hey Jace. ~C**

**I trust you slept well? –J**

**Err, yes I did. How would you possibly know? ~C**

**Look outside your window.**

Clary hesitated, almost too frightened to obey. She opened the curtains a bit more before timidly looking down at the streets below. Sure enough, Jace was standing there, looking up at her. A small smile tweaked at the corners of his lips. He waved one hand cockily. Clary gasped in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes widened, and Jace's smile grew as he waved at her then beckoned towards him, mouthing the words, 'Come here'. Jace wanted Clary to go see him. He personally came to her house to greet him. Clary obliged, not even stopping to put on shoes as she opened the door and dashed down the two floors that it took to get to the lobby before throwing the final door open. She saw Jace a few feet away, and she ran the final steps down towards him, not even ashamed as she threw herself into his arms.

"Hey!" she said brightly, wrapping her arms around Jace. She breathed in the unfamiliar scent of him. Jace smelled faintly of mint, which Clary approved of. As soon as they collided a strange tingly feeling shot up Clary's arms, and she let out a breath. She felt Jace's arms hesitantly wrap around her body before he pulled away, a strange smirk on his face. Clary finally realized how rash her actions were, and she abashedly took a step back, hugging her arms with her hands slightly.

"Aren't you in a cheerful mood today," Jace teased, bumping Clary's side with his elbow. She smiled, still flustered, before clearing her throat.

"Well, I just happened to see my date outside my window, so yes, I'm in a cheerful mood today," Clary countered before the blush ran to her cheeks almost instantaneously. Thoughts ran through her mind like a wildfire. Oh no, was she being too straightforward? She shouldn't have said something like that after a first date. That line came maybe three dates earlier than it should have. Groaning, Clary embarrassedly thrust her hands over her eyes as she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she apologized instantly, as if it was a second nature to do so. She felt gentle hands remove her hands from her face, fingers numbed by the cold gingerly wrapping around her wrists. Jace slowly took her hands away from her face, lowering them to her sides. Jace was staring at her, gold eyes flashing.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked quietly. Jace's voice was a soft whisper, and he peered at Clary curiously, subconsciously licking his lower lip which kind of turned Clary on, she hated to admit. Shaking her dirty thoughts from her mind, Clary managed a weak reply.

"I-I don't k-know. It just seemed so… so forward a-a-and—"

"We've only been on one date?" Jace finished for her, a soft smile creeping onto his lips. Clary flashed him an incredulous look, but he just shook his head and silenced her with a dry chuckle. "You think I don't know that, Dollface?"

Clary shrugged imperceptibly before reaching up to brush a stray tendril of hair from her eyes before she felt a pressure on her arms, preventing her from doing so. Looking down, she saw that Jace's hands were still wrapped around her wrists. She tried to move again, but the grip on her wrists on tightened slightly. Clary's heart hammered loudly in her chest as she assessed the situation, her mind whirling as her thoughts were jumbled up and couldn't be placed back together for some time. Her breath caught in her throat, and Jace looked down at their current state before he looked back at Clary, hesitantly raising one of his hands to brush the curl away from her face. His touch was light and feathery as he not only took her hair from her face, but he also tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lightly touching her ear lobe, making Clary nearly deteriorate from an emotion of excitement and utter horror. Her mind was a mess, and she sucked in an excited breath instinctively, causing Jace to freeze, his hand still softly at the nape of her neck. His eyes looked at her closely, as if saying, 'Tell me to stop and I will.' Clary didn't respond. She was frozen, completely rigid in his hands. Slowly, Jace's hand danced at her neck, lightly making Clary stumble towards him. She gasped, preparing herself for the cold, hard pavement that would be waiting for her, but right before she could fall forward, Jace's other hand was there, supporting her by her waist, and his lips captured hers in a kiss.

An electric shock coursed through as soon as their lips collided, making Clary stagger. But Jace held her in a vice grip with his muscled arms; all Clary could do was give in. She slowly but firmly pressed their lips together more, and soon, they moved in unison, mirroring each other's movements perfectly. Her fingers had found their way to his blonde hair and wound themselves in it, feeling them run easily through the locks. She let out a contented sigh, and Jace pulled her closer to them so there was absolutely no space between them. His hands trailed fire wherever they went, and soon, Clary realized she couldn't hold her breath any longer. She pulled back, her palms flat against Jace's chest as she gasped, inhaling all the air she could manage. Looking up, Jace's face was flushed, and his gold eyes looked a bit unfocused as he still held Clary towards him. They stayed like that, in each other's arms, for a long moment. Clary cleared her throat, and Jace looked at her, leaning towards her once more to peck her on the earlobe, murmuring in her ear.

"Le couple est belle."

"What?" Clary asked, smiling slightly. Jace's teeth grazed her ear before he said it again.

"The couple is beautiful."

**XOXOXOXO**

They walked hand-in-hand, fingers entwined. Clary wondered how their fingers fit together perfectly, and every so often, Jace would stop to bring her hand to his lips and kiss each and every one of her fingers. "You have artists' hands," he murmured, marveling her small fingers. Clary smiled.

"It's because I am an artist. I draw," she said. Then it dawned on her. She hadn't drawn in what seemed like a long time. Months on end. She had a little corner set up for her in the main room back at the apartment. Clary recalled how Simon had told her the corner was collecting dust and she should do something about that. *wink wink. nudge nudge.* Of course, Clary had been too busy with work to even listen to him, and her heart sunk when she realized how long it had been. Her fingers ached from desire. She wanted to pull the pencil in her embrace as she ran it up and down the paper and created patterns and intricate lines which would then come together to form a beautiful picture.

"Really?" Jace asked, holding her hand as he walked backward, letting Clary lead the way. "You like drawing?"

"Yes, I love it." Clary couldn't be more honest.

_"Drawing? I can see that."_

_"Yes, I love to draw."_

_"Well that's unbelievably ravishing. How sexy."_

_"Stop, V."_

_"You're giggling. And besides, Miss Fray, I think I'll have to buy you some art supplies."_

"Yes, but… I haven't drawn in a _long_ time," Clary admitted, looking down at her sneakers. Her heart sunk drastically, as if it were pummeling to the deepest, darkest ocean floor.

"Remind me to buy you some art supplies," Jace raised his eyebrows at her suggestively making Clary laugh before she sighed again, looking down. That's what V said to her. It was exactly like it, and Clary couldn't stand the reminder of him any longer. She shook her head back and forth frantically.

"I don't have the time..."

"Clary," Jace scolded, stopping in front of her, raising her chin with his fingers so he could look into her eyes. "You really need to make time for yourself." It was true. She nodded numbly, her eyes still not meeting his. Her bottom lip quivered.

"I know." Her voice was a soft whisper. Jace nodded and threw his arm around her shoulder as they walked and for once, Clary felt like the heavy burden was lifted off her chest. Jace was carrying it with her. She was no longer concerned about any patients or anything else that might stop her from enjoying her day. Clary was free.

**XOXOXOXO**

His blue eyes darted to and fro, eyes nervously flitting around like a bee collecting pollen. There was absolutely no reason to be nervous at all. No there wasn't. It wasn't like Dr. Fray had taken the whole day off leaving him to tend to all her patients by himself. Damnit.

He let out a long breath, clenching and unclenching his fingers before he felt a bead of sweat drip down his neck. He didn't need Clary for guidance. He should know better than this. After all, he was interning. It was okay. Everything would be okay. Sighing, he ran a hand through his dark hair, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Clary said that he would be a good doctor. She told him that he was a hard worker and quick learner. Sometimes he doubted her because she was always so hard on him, always looking at him like he was a monster. He growled softly.

He drummed his fingers lightly over the white coat, clicking his tongue which was a bad habit. He had picked it up from the head doctor herself. There was something about her that seemed oddly familiar, as if he had known her before, but it was impossible. He met Doctor Fray over a year ago when he first began his internship at the Brooklyn Hospital. He ran a hand through his dark black hair before blinking rapidly, letting out a frustrated breath. His phone vibrated, shattering the silence of the elevator, and he reached blindly for it in his deep coat pocket, pulling it out before he placed the phone to his ear, answering irritably.

"What?"

"Hello to you too. I don't think Dr Fray would approve of your tone. What if that was her calling you and you answered with a 'what'?" the mocking tone came from the other line, and he sighed, wanting to throw his phone to the other side of the elevator.

"Well you obviously aren't Clary, Aline," he snapped at her, feeling his anger grow dramatically.

"Geez, calm down V."

He snapped.

"Goddamn it! How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" V was part of his past. A rather painful part of his past. V did no longer exist. Not in _his_ mind anyways.

"Alright, just chill out, Sebastian. You're kind of scaring me." Aline's voice was cautious, as if she was afraid that he would snap again. Trying to control his breathing, Sebastian sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back in concentration. Fury frothed just beneath his calm surface, waiting to break through.

"Yeah, s'alright. Bye." He pressed the end button and stared at his reflection on the ceiling of the elevator. It was Sebastian Verlac. Not V.


	7. Hold on to Me

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to pluviophile 2013, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

** Thanks a bunch to my lovely beta, wolfluvermh (: I honestly don't give you enough credit, and you're just so awesome, it's beyond words.**

_Author's Note: Yes, Sebastian is 'V' hahahaha XD And a eleven more reviews until 100 reviews? Wow. I'm so excited, so hopefully I'll be reaching 100 soon. I have a feeling you'll be reviewing after reading this chapter… (;_

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The tall, dark boy dwarfed the plastic chair he sat in, his posture aggressively poor. His lips touched the edge of his ceramic mug, sipping quietly at the black coffee as he listened attentively to the others talk around him. At the moment, he felt no reason to voice his opinion. Aline was animatedly talking about some date she was going to as soon as her shift ended, which was rather unpredictable. Sebastian also had a feeling that he would be staying late as well. They were rather short on doctors at the moment which only left him as the intern as well as some older doctors on the other floors, most of them taking more breaks than they should have been. He was completely frustrated at the moment, and his head was pounding. It felt like he was lying on a ship, his face pressed into the wood as a fat, one-legged man with a stiletto jumped onto his skull and beat him into the wood farther than before.

"Oh my god. We should all go to Taki's." Kaelie's shrill voice broke Sebastian out of his reverie, and he turned, eyes blinking. Excited murmurs whipped around him as the rest of the nurses and doctors excitedly agreed, nodding. Did they not care that they had patients to attend to? They, the nurses and doctors, couldn't just leave whenever they pleased. Their patients were their first priority. They came before everything. That's what Dr. Fray had told him. He was determined to make her proud. Anger bubbled up in Sebastian as he clenched his hands into fists. Furiously, he pounded his fist into the table; the whole room vibrated and quieted within moments. Everyone stared at him, shocked as he shook.

"No." Sebastian's voice was firm and shook with authority. Isabelle gaped at him, arching an eyebrow at him in fascination before Sebastian shook his head again and pounded his fist on the table again. "NO."

"Excuse me?" Aline asked, quickly grabbing her composure as she slipped the role as the authoritative nurse; the leader. Her brown eyebrow quickly fled to her hairline, and Sebastian scoffed at her. Right now he wanted to just wipe that smug expression clean off her face. Unbelievable rage grabbed hold of him as he prepared to throw their own medicine back into their faces. He was fed up with all of them.

Isabelle did not have her usual chastening look on her face, but she sat there, silently, watching him with a curious pair of blue eyes as she listened to what he had to say. Normally Isabelle was always scolding or lecturing and sometimes praising Sebastian for simple tasks; she was almost motherly towards him, which Sebastian never seemed to understand. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. After all, she wasn't his mother and he had a higher position that she did. She sat quietly in her chair, her hands wrapped delicately around her cup. A strange expression crossed her face, but Sebastian turned away to address everyone else; he needed to make his point, and everyone needed to shut up and listen to him for a while. He wasn't weak.

He was powerful.

"I don't know how you can call just sit around here, talking about lunch while we have patients waiting for us to take care of them. They're depending on us. It's our job to go out there and save lives. But what do you all happen to be doing instead? Applying lipstick to your already puffy lips or checking out your own boobs in the mirror," he hissed, anger in his voice. Kaelie scoffed and stood up, her red fingernails digging into the table. Not that Kaelie was a nurse, she wasn't. Kaelie was a volunteer who worked at the desk, taking calls or doing whatnot. Sure, she was good at her job when she wanted to be, but hitting on all the hot patients that came into the hospital for near-death experiences was not a good signal to Sebastian.

"Excuse me?" Kaelie slammed her fists into the wooden table as she stared menacingly at Sebastian from across the table, visibly shaking in anger. Sebastian raised a shaming finger at her.

"Tsk tsk, Kaelie. Attitude is not permitted at the hospital," he mocked openly, his long finger twirling around the air aimlessly. Kaelie's face turned a dangerous shade of red as she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Kaelie threw herself at Sebastian, literally flying over the table to crash into her coworker. Sebastian was definitely taken by surprise at the flying girl, but he was much faster than her on any day. Nimbly, he sidestepped out of her path, leaving Kaelie to plummet to the ground where he once stood. But he knew better than that; they were already short on staff. Quickly, Sebastian threw out his hands to catch Kaelie in his grasp before she hit the ground, and she thrashed in his arms, calling him names and screaming at him to let her go. Shouts of protest and horror came from the others came into Sebastian's line of hearing, but he didn't pay attention and neither did Kaelie. She pounded on his back before her long fingernails raked down his cheek, drawing blood from him as she tore violently at his flesh. He gasped and let go abruptly, shock etched on his face. Sebastian pushed the girl away from his body like she was a contagious disease. His hand went to his cheek, and he growled when he saw it was stained with blood.

"Skank!" Sebastian snarled at her and was about to lunge for Kaelie again until he felt a pair of hands hold him back as he struggled. Both Aline and Isabelle made a grab for him, but Isabelle was faster. She tripped Sebastian with a quick sweep of her feet and as he stumbled, she pinned him to the wall, the unwounded side of his face colliding with it as he stood there, dazed.

"What is the matter with you?" Isabelle whispered fiercely in his ear. When he didn't respond, she pressed him harder into the wall, twisting his wrist slightly. "Outside. Now." Sebastian huffed but did as he was told, slowly dragging his feet out of the room, passing by the screaming Kaelie as he was escorted outside by Isabelle who glared at the girl, her blue eyes narrowing in disgust as she looked her over.

Kaelie kept screeching from where she was being restrained by Aline. "You douchebag! You're a piece of shit, Sebastian. It's no wonder Clary left you for Herondale!" Sebastian was about to turn around and give the girl a piece of his mind before Isabelle hurriedly shouldered him out of the way into another room, her voice strong.

"_Shut the fuck up,_ Kaelie!" she screamed back, black hair springing from her ponytail as she went back over, her fist raised to Kaelie's nose. The maddened girl just kept screaming at her, her piercing voice loud and penetrating Isabelle's mind, making other doctors and nurses turn in confusion. Murmurs rose from the others as they debated whether to call security or not, but most of them shrugged, turning away and doing their best to ignore the commotion.

"Isabelle." Sebastian's hand gently rested on her shoulder as he looked over at her, a strange expression on his face as he replied. He looked worn. Tired. He shook his head in surrender. "Just let it go. She's not worth your breath or anyone else's for that matter," he whispered. Isabelle nodded slowly before turning to glare at Kaelie one more time before she followed Sebastian out of the room, calming slightly.

"Yeah… you're right." They left, walking slowly, but not before Isabelle flipped the bird at Kaelie.

XOXOXOXO

"You alright? Kaelie's fingernails dug into your skin pretty bad," Isabelle said to Sebastian, raising the white wash cloth to his cheek. He grimaced and turned away from her, but she gave him a pointed look, and Sebastian sighed, letting her tend to his bloodied cheek. The pair was in a tidy bathroom. Sebastian stood in front of the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror while Isabelle sat in front of him, perched on the edge of the sink as she dabbed at his scratch.

"Yeah… but I failed to realize that apes have claws…" His remarks made Isabelle roll her eyes at him, and Sebastian half-smiled at her. She had a pretty laugh. Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, hissing as Isabelle pressed the cloth to his cheek. She rolled her eyes at him, slapping his shoulder lightly.

"Oh geez, you're such a baby! Grow up," Isabelle groaned, ignoring his wince of pain as she continued to dab at his wound, the cloth icy cold against his skin. They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's company. For as long as Sebastian could remember, Isabelle was always there. She was always watching, always making sure he was doing alright. Not that Sebastian didn't appreciate her maternal instincts, but she always watching him so carefully like he was a grenade about to go off. It terrified Sebastian as much as it made him angry. Clary always looked at him like that. Like he was a monster.

He never understood the looks that Clary gave him. There was something about her green eyes peering at him that made him uncomfortable, to say the least. It wasn't that the looks were bad, they were just… scrutinizing. Like she was checking him out. Not the 'oh I think he's exceptionally smoking hot' check out but the 'I will find your every flaw and see that you know every mistake that you've ever made' check out. Being her intern, Sebastian always felt that he had to live up to Clary's atrociously high standards that she set for him.

Don't state your name first. Say it after greeting the patient.

Wash your hands before you touch the patient.

Is your breath reeking of coffee? Brush your teeth.

She almost sounded like his mother. Almost. "Hey Izzy?"

"Yes, Verlac?" unlike Clary's negative connotation of his last name, Isabelle always teased him about it. She loved his last name, and would call him Verlac rather than Sebastian.

"Why doesn't Clary like me?" he asked out of the blue, making the other girl jump. She stared at him from the mirror, blue eyes widening slightly at his question. Sebastian could tell that he caught her off guard. He raised an eyebrow at her; what was so wrong about asking questions from Isabelle? Sebastian felt a bit stupid for asking such a girly question, but Lightwood was Clary's best friend, and he figured she would know. Now if she told him… that would be nice…

"Why would you say that?" Isabelle asked. But Sebastian caught a hint of hesitation in her silky voice. Isabelle never hesitated unless she was lying or was uncomfortable. He knew that well enough.

"Don't lie to me Isabelle," Sebastian said, his hand wrapping tightly around her wrist. She froze. Blue eyes clashed until Isabelle finally looked away, her voice calm.

"Please let me go. You're hurting me." He released her quickly, and Isabelle pulled her hand away and held it to her chest, rubbing it lightly. Sebastian winced in sympathy when he saw it start to turn red. He turned away from her, mumbling a quiet apology to the other girl. They stood there in awkward silence. But silence was never awkward when it came to Isabelle. They were always talking or sitting together, using their eyes to communicate rather than their lips. But Sebastian had messed up when he pushed her away and hurt her like that. Isabelle sighed and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"She doesn't hate you Sebastian," Isabelle said gently, her voice soft and soothing to his ears. He didn't turn, not believing a word she said, no matter how convincing Isabelle was. "Hey." Cold, slim fingers gripped his chin lightly as she forced him to turn his head to look at her. Isabelle's blue eyes looked at him in wonder, and her dark eyebrows narrowed in concern as she looked at his face, searching for something. Sebastian didn't know what she expected to find in all honesty. There he was with her. There she was with him. Nothing else. There couldn't possibly be anything else to look for. Isabelle sighed heavily, breaking their eye contact as she closed her eyes for a long time, thinking over what to say. "Clary's going through a rough time…," she started. Sebastian scoffed.

"Going through a rough time as in being angry at me for the past year? I honestly don't think anyone can be going through anything so traumatic that it takes them a year to recover! You need to learn to suck it up and go on because life goes on, even if you're not ready for it to." His words stunned Isabelle into silence before she looked him over carefully, her voice a croaky whisper.

"You really don't remember, do you?" With that, Isabelle excused herself from the bathroom as she left Sebastian alone, more confused than ever.

XOXOXOXO

"Clary, can I talk to you?"

It was a nervous voice on the other end of the line, making Clary nearly choke on the strawberry yogurt she was eating. Jace stared at her quizzically, arching a blonde eyebrow at her in concern. A look of amusement was plastered on his face, and Clary rolled her eyes at him, reaching over the table to swat his arm before swallowing.

"Isabelle?" Clary managed to squeak out, coughing slightly before Jace made his way over to her, patting her on the back in an attempt to save her from choking to death.

"Umm, you alright? I can call back later…"

"No, I'm fine!" She covered the receiver with her fingers before turning to Jace.

"Please, uh, excuse me?" she asked, biting on her bottom lip nervously. She and Jace went to a yogurt place a couple blocks away from her apartment to grab a snack and continue their very romantic date in Central Park, but this call was urgent. As much as Clary felt torn between telling Isabelle to call back later so she could enjoy Jace, there was something off about Isabelle's voice when she spoke into the phone. Jace sighed dramatically.

"You're excused." As Clary made her way out the door, she felt a pair of hands grab her waist as she was pulled into Jace, his warmth radiating onto her. Sparks flew between them and suddenly, Clary was no longer cold as she struggled in Jace's grasp. Telling him to let her go only led to Jace gripping tighter, a low laugh rumbling from the back of his throat as he held her hostage. He planted a couple soft kisses to her neck before Clary wiggled out of his grasp, giggling hysterically. After escaping, Clary cleared her throat.

"Sorry 'bout that. Yeah, what's up Izzy?" Clary felt remorseful for being such a terrible friend to Isabelle, and she tried to listen attentively to her friend in hopes of making amends. But it was terribly hard to do so when a certain golden-haired boy smirked at her from a park bench a couple feet away, licking his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"You sure you're not busy? You seem occupied," Isabelle said, suspicion rising in her voice. Clary laughed convincingly although her cheeks flared in embarrassment as she replied.

"No, no. I'm available. What's on your mind?" she began walking away from Jace, hoping that he wouldn't distract her if he wasn't in her line of eyesight. Instead, she tempted him, swaying her hips from side to side just a bit more as she walked, a small smile coming up the edge of her face. She turned and waved casually to Jace, winking at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, but his gold eyes lingered with desire, and Clary giggled, blowing him a kiss. She could definitely get used to this.

There was a brief pause on the phone. "It's Sebastian." Clary froze, all evidence of pure joy wiped clean off her face. Her heart froze, and time seemed to come to a standstill. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion, and she pressed the phone closer to her ear, desperately straining to listen to everything Isabelle had to say. Had he remembered? Did he want her back? Was he hurt? Oh God… please, no… "Clary, are you there?"

"Yes… I'm here."

"He was asking about you…" Isabelle's voice was soft as she spoke, and Clary felt a lump building up in her throat. At least he wasn't hurt. But if not that, then what had happened? And he was asking about her?

"What did he say?" Isabelle didn't respond, and Clary felt the lump begin to swallow her whole as she forced the words out of her throat. Her voice shook like mad, and she swore at herself slightly. She was no longer hung over on Sebastian. She was not hung over Sebastian. It ended a year ago. But she couldn't shake off the dark, lean boy from her mind. He was so perfect: everything Clary envisioned her prince to be. Dark, tall, handsome and sweet. Stop. "Isabelle. What did he say?"

"He wanted to know why you hate him." her tone was flat making Clary stumble back in surprise.

"Hate him?" she repeated dubiously. "Why would he think that?"

"Everyone can see that something went on between you two. I mean, most people know what happened—"

"Does he remember?" her voice shook, and Clary's bottom lip trembled in anticipation. The doctors had said that he had amnesia and was most likely never going to regain that part of his memory ever again. But Clary always had hope for Sebastian, despite what everyone else said. And she had to let him go. She couldn't bring herself to hold onto him any longer. The pain was too much for her; every time she saw him, it was just another reminder that he would never remember the five years they had spent together, from junior year in high school to that point.

"No, he doesn't remember," Isabelle replied after a short pause. Clary sighed. It was to be expected. "But you gotta stop pushing him away Clary. He doesn't deserve the way you're treating him." She hung up. The silence was unbearable. It was dead and hung over her quietly, making Clary drop to her knees in defeat. Her phone clattered to her ground, and her lip shook, the dam finally breaking. The tears spilled from her eyes, and Clary fisted her palms to her eyes, her body shuddering with each anguished cry that came out of her mouth.

She could feel his presence wrapping around her, and she heard him as the birds chirped and felt his gentle touch in the wind. It was like she was constantly being tortured by the fact that she couldn't have him. She felt a gentle pair of arms wrap around her, and she automatically knew it was Jace. Clary couldn't help but look up, her green eyes watering. There was a look of understanding in Jace's gold eyes as he peered at her, and Clary fisted her hands into his shirt as she cried into the crook of his neck, tears dripping onto his bare skin. Jace just held her, not saying anything. He understood. She needed to cry. He would ask her later but for now, Clary just needed someone to hang onto.

**XOXOXOXO *FLASHBACK BELOW***

_"I love you so much, Miss Fray." Sebastian's long guitarist fingers danced around her bare skin as he kissed her, fingers entwined in her red hair, his lips on hers, soft and firm at the same time. Sebastian gently caressed her, and he pulled back, smiling. He was feeling incredibly confident, rightfully so, considering the amount of dates they'd been on since the start. Sebastian felt something with Clary. He knew he loved her. He wanted to be with her. She was so beautiful. They just returned from getting dinner at Pedro's, and they sat in Sebastian's car, parked outside Clary's apartment._

_His confidence began to fade when Clary didn't respond at first, but Sebastian kept the easy smile on his face, despite the fact that his heart was pumping out of his chest. "That's okay if you don't love me back." Clary opened her mouth to protest, but Sebastian plowed through. "It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you, Clarissa Fray." Clary was sitting next to him in his car, a flushed expression on her face. Her lips couldn't form words, and she didn't know what to say. Finally, when she found her voice again, although it was rather small, she responded._

_"I… I love you too Sebastian," she whispered. Clary leaned in for one more kiss, and soon, they were kissing. One of Sebastian's hands was on the steering wheel while the other was clutching Clary's small hand. They stayed like that and were found in the same position the following hour after the careless speeding driver had rammed into Sebastian's car from the side, and the two had crashed from the car window and laid out on the street, bleeding out together._

_Sebastian still had a grip on Clary's hand, and they looked peaceful. If the paramedics hadn't checked the couple's pulse, they would've thought they were dead. But Clary and Sebastian were both fine. But when Sebastian awoke in a hospital bed next to Clary, he looked at her with a confused expression on his face then looked down to their interlocked fingers. Her thumb was idly tracing a soft pattern on his knuckles, and Sebastian drew his hand away quietly; his next words broke Clary's heart when he said: "Who are you?"_


	8. Heartbreaker(s)

****I don't own the characters of The Mortal Instruments or plot line at all. I'm borrowing the characters and will return them safely. The story line of this fanfiction belongs to pluviophile 2013, and please do not recopy or take idea without asking.****

_Author's Note: the response that I got was mind blowing. Thank you all for reviewing my story. It means a lot. *MUAH* and to my beta, wolfluvermh. You make my writing better and yay ily c: and wow I surpassed 100 reviews, have over 50 favorites and OVER 110 follows! Wow guys, you rock!_

* * *

The rain came down in small drops, pounding onto the streets of New York, sending people fleeing for cover like little ants on the pavement. Pitilessly, the droplets continued to pitter on the people and everything it could touch, immediately soaking anything its icy fingers touched. A deep, thrumming rumble passed by, announcing the incoming of a soon-to-be thunderstorm, and the rain continued to pound mercilessly. Clary flinched at the booming crack of thunder. A small whimper escaped her lips, and she felt Jace's strong arm pull her towards him. Clary dug her face into his chest, relaxing slightly into his warm body before letting out a shuddery breath as both his arms encircled her. A low crooning noise purred from the back of Jace's throat, and Clary snuggled closer to him, fisting her hand into his shirt tightly, drawing his body closer to hers. Jace didn't say anything to Clary. He just rocked her back and forth silently, his arms squeezing her towards him, making Clary feel all mushy and warm. Her thoughts soon began to make a bit more sense, and she let out a long sigh, trying to think everything over. "Okay." Her voice was a lot shakier and weaker than she would like to admit. Jace pulled back slightly, gold eyes scanning over her face, searching her. Despite the situation, Clary felt heat rush her cheeks. She looked down slightly, playing with the hem of her ratty t-shirt.

"Okay," Jace repeated her words quickly, resting his forehead against hers. Clary breathed out quietly, their breaths entwining. Jace gave her a small half smile before Clary gave him a soft kiss to his lips.

"When did you become such an understanding boyfriend?" She mentally cursed herself for the use of the word 'boyfriend', but Jace didn't seem to mind. His smirk broadened, teasing her without saying a word. Clary just rolled her eyes at him despite everything. "Don't flatter yourself," she added with a snort of laughter. Boyfriend, boyfriend, _boyfriend_. She had called him her boyfriend. Jace seemingly subconsciously wrapped his arms tighter around Clary, a bit of possessiveness taking over him as he kissed the top of her head. Giving her arms a reassuring squeeze to signal his approval, Clary holds him tighter. Jace's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he struggled to think of an answer to Clary's (rhetorical) question on how he had become such an understanding boyfriend. Honestly Jace didn't know. He was just the player. The ones that the needy girls desperately sought out to 'get what they want'.

It felt odd to have his role reversed. He wasn't like that anymore. Jace didn't just screw around with girls just to get what he wanted. There was more than that. He could see that for the first time with Clary, the girl snuggled up at his side. And when she cast a silent look up at him, her green eyes pleaded with him. They were swirled with such emotion, Jace felt like he had just been socked in the stomach. Was it even possible for a girl such as tiny as Clary to feel as much as she did? The thoughts and things her eyes said terrified him. She blinked up at Jace silently, green eyes swirling with mystery. What do I do? I'm so confused… I really like you. Do you like me too? I'm so stressed out. Help me figure out what I need to do.

Jace breathed out quietly, running a hand through his gold hair, looking down at her. The only thing he could do was lean in and give her a quiet and (hopefully) reassuring squeeze and a swift peck to the top of her head. If Clary wanted words of comfort, she had definitely come to the wrong person. Jace couldn't give her that; not yet, anyways.

"I'm glad you're here Jace," Clary said against his chest, her voice reverberating through his body. Two layers. Two layers of clothing between them… Jace's sweater and t-shirt against Clary's cheek… stop, he couldn't do that. He wasn't that person anymore. Jace's eyebrows knit together, and he closed his eyes briefly, trying to get his raving hormones under control. "Jace, are you okay?" Clary asked worriedly, green eyes staring at him. He could only nod curtly.

"Yes, I'm fine," Jace replied reassuringly, fighting the urge to pounce on her and ravish her body against his. He wouldn't do that. He wasn't a player anymore. He could fight it. Fight the hormones that threatened to overtake him. The internal struggle, the battle he was fighting and losing was coming to an end. Jace looked around for something just anything to distract him. His flitting eyes landed on the crimson rose which Clary had put on her table. A smile tugged at the edges of his lips, and he sighed quietly, continuing to caress and comfort the girl in his arms…

**XOXOXOXO**

"I'll take another one," Isabelle demanded, setting her glass down forcefully onto the bar. The bartender cocked one eyebrow at her, giving her a skeptical glance-over. Isabelle laughed, throwing her head back as she shook her on her stool. "I want another one!" The man eyeballed her with much caution.

"I think you've had a lot little miss…" He hesitated, watching the drunk Isabelle sway on the stool she sat on. Isabelle's eyes didn't narrow, but her lips curled into a soft frown as she leaned forward onto the island, trying to catch herself before she fell. The music in the club blared so obnoxiously loud Isabelle had to talk over it, which meant practically shouting at the poor man.

"But I want one!" She pouted indignantly before another laugh erupted from her lips. Isabelle's hand flew to her mouth as she giggled again, the world swirling and spinning around her, threatening to collapse and drag her down into a dark hole in which she would resurface with a pounding headache and a terrible hangover. The man put his hands up in defense, not really in the mood for dealing with drunk girls at the moment.

"I'm sorry, but really, I think you should drink water," he tried again weakly, his voice faltering. Isabelle pouted once more, throwing her head down on the counter with a bang, giggling madly.

"You're funny… you're funny…," she laughed, looking back up at the man, twirling a finger towards him.

"And you are drunk." The voice didn't startle her, and the girl turned around. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as she threw her arms around the person.

"Simon!" Isabelle hugged him tightly, squeezing his shoulder bones together as she gracefully hopped off the stool and into Simon's arms, throwing her legs around his hips, balancing on top of the boy elegantly. Simon stumbled back, hugging Isabelle awkwardly with one arm as he steadied himself with the other, willing himself not to fall. He felt her lips at his throat, and she breathed out. Simon fought the urge to cough.

"You're drunk," he hissed in her ear knowingly, looking at Isabelle accusingly. What was wrong with her? Isabelle giggled uncontrollably, her pale hand flying to her lips as she hiccupped to herself.

"Yes, I am," she agreed before pausing as her mind slowly registered the thought. "Yes I am!" Isabelle squealed excitedly, leaning forward slightly as she rocked her hips against Simon's, the words now flying out of her mouth easily. "I AM DRUNK!" She whooped, letting out a cackle as she threw her head back, laughing loudly. The other people in the club paid no mind to the guffawing Isabelle, although Simon's face flushed deeply in embarrassment as he watched her, futilely trying to silence her.

"We should get you home," Simon said, starting to make his way through the crowd, pushing past the packed number of bodies. For a moment, Isabelle stared at him before replying, her voice dark and snappy.

"To my house or yours? Because, darling, I don't want sex tonight," Isabelle replied brusquely, the words cutting into Simon's skull like a knife. He chose to ignore her comment.

Simon made his way out to the door, the darkness encompassing him. His eyes were forced to adjust to the lack of light before Simon could continue walking. He made his way over to the parking lot which was crammed with cars. "How'd you get here Isabelle?" he asked her, desperately searching for the girl's car, which was not in sight. Simon swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Taxi…." Isabelle managed to slur out, her voice almost unintelligible due to her wild giggles. Simon let out an exasperated sigh, looking down at the girl in his arms. She was so beautiful, so headstrong, and so independent. So _Isabelle_. And this girl here? This wasn't the Isabelle Lightwood he knew, the Isabelle Lightwood he learned to love. Sighing, Simon watched her quietly, through her giggles and saw someone more carefree than Isabelle was. Someone who was enjoying her life. When she would wake from this, it would all be a dream. He wouldn't be there anymore. Simon leaned down, his lips carefully and almost sadly touching her forehead. Isabelle's laughter faded, and soon, gentle snores came from her lips. It was okay. He needed to let go. He wouldn't be caught up on a girl who didn't like him back. There was no use.

"You're a heartbreaker Isabelle Lightwood," he whispered.


End file.
